Written: August 4, 2026
She was at every booster meeting, parade, and competition;
The best supporter and grade parent – there’s no comparison.
Everyone around called her “Mama” – my friends and classmates, too.
And we laughed.
We shop and vacation and dance in traffic jams.
And we laugh.
We laugh while we clean,
But then come the screams.
“I can’t wait to die” and “you better never shed one tear.”
Her words echo my thoughts at 16;
The ones when I read, “you better hope you’re dead in a ditch somewhere”
Pop up on my cell phone screen.
“Have a wonderful life”, spewed with vitriol and anger,
And she says, “Ignoring me seems to make you feel so much better.”
She says, “I’m pretty used to it by now”, “I won’t contact you again”, “I know exactly where I stand”
Yet here I sit, crying, both head and heart in my hands
A text received when I’m sick and asleep
The words, “Did you die?” almost feel hopeful to me.
“I don’t have a daughter anymore” and “I’m out”
And all I can do is sit, scream, and shout.
“I know you feel like the wrong parent died.”
I’ve never felt it, but as usual, she believes that she’s right.
She’s the best of the best and the worst of the worst.
Never knowing who I’ll get – that’s what really hurts.
“I’ll be gone one of these days. And coulda woulda shoulda will be far too late”
“Me too”, I think, and some days, I can’t wait.
Instead, I send, “What did I do?”
In tiny letters:
“Read.”
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