Home > Life, poetry > That’s what she taught me.

That’s what she taught me.

The truth is,

my mother did me teach something.

When I was small,

she let me investigate the contents of her little yellow wicker sewing box,

showing me how to make needle and thread fix the hem,

or save the button.

She taught me that you should make your own sauce,

simply because you can,

and that you fold the laundry right when it comes out of the dryer.

(which I never do).

I often forget that she taught me things things

because I remember the other things she taught me,

like how to tiptoe quietly to avoid reaction,

or that maybe some people cannot change who they are.

When I don’t quite remember the little things,

when I forget the right way to thread the needle,

or which ingredient to add to the pot first,

I miss her.

And I feel bad that I don’t remember all the things she taught me,

all the things she did for me,

because maybe some people cannot change.

My mother came from nothing.

She had nothing.

She had to become a woman on her own,

and she had to fight to be here,

and fight to let go.

So when I forget how to thread the needle,

or what ingredient goes into the pot first,

I teach myself.

I figure it out on my own,

because that’s what she taught me.

 

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Categories: Life, poetry Tags:
  1. Amy
    August 17, 2014 at 22:38

    This is wonderful, Lori.

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