Joanna Gilman Hyde

February 22, 2013

Dear Mom:

The Time Has Come For Me

to write You a Proper Letter

as an astute friend

pointed out tonight

I never had —

nor allowed My Self —

any Time alone with You

after You died.

–

I left Your Hospital Room Immediately.

I made The Arrangements for Your Cremation

on no sleep

and when You came to visit

in the Form of A Chickadee

eyeing Your Coffin Boards

still I did not linger with You.

You landed on My Finger

and I did not speak.

I was in A Trance

broken only by The Greatest Event

ever to befall Me:

The Shower of Silver Lights

crashing down on My Head

four days after You Died.

–

I thought I was The Second Coming of Christ

and saw The Meaning of Life

that night in My Hospital Room.

The Next Day, April Fool’s Day

a chipmunk/leprechaun of a doctor

told Me I might be A Seer —

well, that was IT —

I followed That Little Man

for The Next Two Decades

and thought of Him

as My Divine Partner

until yesterday

when I flung out into The Ocean

a sculpture of Him

made out of aluminium foil

off a pizza slice.

I also threw out

The Little Balsa Wood Box

You gave Me

because I had written His initials and Mine

inside.

This was not done without days of trepidation

but I did It

and I wish You could have done something similar

to get rid of Your Little Man —

a pain You bore since I was nine.

–

So Now I Am Alone With You

and I Love You.

You were My Greatest Love–

and without You I had to foster

a replacement —

and not just a new Husband —

an entire fantastical existence

which is now

finally

concluded —

thanks to You

and to My Awareness

of How Much You Meant To Me.

–

All My Love,

Joge