I am, and always will be...Mom

Grand Memories

The room was silent except for shadows of a dusty piano sitting near a window in the formal hall. The world outside was clueless at what lay behind over grown towering bushes, chestnut trees, part of the over crowded landscape of our Monument Gardens.

‘Baby’, as we called my daughters’ favorite grand and expensive toy, was still waiting for her fingers to breathe life back into its frame; its long sleek legs mixed with morning half light stretched across the floor each day like arms beckoning me to find its mistress. She had gone; never to return.

I could not bear to touch the cold wood, nor its ivory keys. To leave my prints where hers still lie was unthinkable. Their music still haunts this house, and every room you may enter. Sheets of paper sitting upon the stand; musical notes, compositions; pieces half finished; music that would bring tears to my still aching heart. The sounds we loved once; that brought life to now silent rooms have become so still.

Now and then knocks at the door suggest I was expected to give up these moments, and return to what continued on in their worlds. Not even the slightest tugs from strangers could take this almost lifeless body away from the grand past, walks in the garden, tea in the afternoon, balls lasting until morning light, and her smiles.

© E Stelling, 5/2009

Mothers & Music

Dreams awaken shadowy rooms, half light door ways, echos of laughter, and running feet. Fingers pelting out one note tunes that make ears scream in pain. Yellowed ivory becomes worthless pain. I longed to hear the music that would bring tears to my eyes. I longed to watch her favorite movies, to look into her loves face, and remember how loud her heart beat for this boy that still lives his life now as a man. Dreams awaken a mother who lived without music, and in her pain. Things remain...

© E Stelling, 5/2009