Happy Mother’s Day

I had a feeling, or maybe it was a desire, she would stop by. 

On Wednesday, when she had texted needing money, since all her cash

had been stolen, she apologized for not calling on Mother’s Day. 

I said, Mother’s Day is next Sunday. She said, oh. She was dark & frustrated. 

We talked a little about rehab. She said it’s hard. She said she’s close, but 

she has to make her mind up on her own. She asked if she could take a shower. 

Afterwards, I asked if she wanted a ham sandwich. She cut the crust off. 

Too hard with missing teeth. I gave her 50 & then she left. 

Today, I was looking for her to stop by or text. But her phone is lost. 

Later, in the evening, just before dark, she knocked. She was holding 

a white pillow with embroidery, holding it like a silver platter. 

There was a pink rose on top and an envelope with a big red heart 

drawn in her style of art making. On the inside, on fine paper, 

there was a note. Happy Mother’s Day! Written curvy & colorful. 

Her buggy, a.k.a. grocery cart, was parked in the driveway. 

She had pushed it all the way here. It was full of stuff.  She asked about 

drying some clothes in the dryer, but knew it was late and decided not to. 

I thanked her for the lovely pillow, gave her a hug & then she left. 

I have no idea where she went, or what her plan was for the night. 

I said, stay in touch.