She came.
After a 9 month wait,
9 long months
filled with wondering
when and how,
and why not yet,
she came.
I didn’t realize at first,
I didn’t understand
at first,
but it was her.
She didn’t say much,
only
“Such a chore.”
Such a chore,
Yes. Yes it was.
this going to bed each night,
this getting out of bed each day,
this living each day
waiting for you,
wondering if today was the day
you would come.
But you,
being with you,
caring for you,
loving you,
that was Never
a chore.
Not once.
EVER.
She came.
You came.
Finally.
And I am grateful.
Related to this piece from March 2, 2016:
©Maribeth Batcho All Rights Reserved.
Unleashed 
This is such an emotionally complicated situation and your words are heart rending. Interesting that she returned after a 9 month gestation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed it is. I often wonder if she tried earlier, but I wasn’t listening. I have one thing to thank sciatica for!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, at the beginning of a new relationship. Wonderful 🙂 mazel tov!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I need all of the mazel tovs I can get! Actually this is about my mother…
LikeLike
I love the resolution of this. I hope you are at peace too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Much more at ease now, thank you. I haven’t had the need to stop at the cemetery since.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a complicated piece of writing on so many levels. I went to read She Hasn’t, Not Yet. I think there is a story here with parts that I am missing, but I am ok with that. I was wracked with guilt when my mom died because while I love her, there were so many days when what I did felt like duty, not love. I don’t regret any of it, but still… I know she was there last Saturday at our celebration for her. I don’t know if she will come again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What’s wrong with doing something out of duty? If you didn’t feel such love, you wouldn’t have felt it was your duty. But, I understand what you are saying…
I hadn’t thought about the writing being complicated, but I can see why you say that. It can be conflicting with religious beliefs, I guess. I am not someone to shy away from heat. In fat, I find myself right in the middle of it without ever trying…
My mother’s death was complicated, unfortunately. It was surrounded by anger and bitterness, betrayals and suffering, and so much more. It didn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t have been that way. My mother deserved so much better and so much more. Had my mother’s death not been so excruciating, I doubt I would write so much about it. I lost big-time when I lost her. On too many levels. The writing is unpopular, but therapeutic. And so I write about it anyway. For me. For her.
Thank you for reading and for commenting. You are living the same life, which may be why you are attracted to the pieces. Best.
LikeLike
The loss of a mother is so hard to represent with words. Yet, often words are all we have. Wishing you peace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Mary Ann.
LikeLike