Piece Written and Read at Beat Night 4-17-14 (So You)

So You

It started with a text message from my father,

February 10:

I was just notified that your mother died on Feb 6. She is being cremated today. Do not know further details yet.

I was reeling. It was inevitable; she’s been months from death

For years…

But I had always expected to be called, as in the past,

By a doctor

Or the police

Not with the previous “Your mother has been brought in for…”
fill in breathing trouble

Or coworkers’ concern over her erratic behavior,

But instead with
“We regret to inform you…”

I couldn’t anticipate a text from a man who had not seen her in 25 years.

Ages of keeping from myself a secret hope for a call from her saying “I’m seeing a psychiatrist,” 

evaporated 

like rubbing alcohol.

A carefully constructed defensive belief that this news, 

when it finally came,

Would bring nothing but relief, possibly celebration,

Toppled.

Years of anger

Cultivated as hedgerows

Against the Blitz

Of her moodswings, paranoia, and misandry

Suddenly useless,

But no less entrenched.

And I was left confused by my lack of surprise

Thinking at her

‘This is so you.
Thanks mom.”

Chris Walters

April 17, 2014