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I was a gift to my mother. she was a remarkable person. god or nature, or whatever those forces are, smiled on her, then passed me the best of her.
-Sidney Poitier
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I Was A Gift To My Mother.

Sidney Poitier
I was a gift to my mother. she was a remarkable person. god or nature, or whatever those forces are, smiled on her, then passed me the best of her.
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Mother Force Remarkable

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She smiled. she knew she was dying. but it did not matter any longer. she had known something which no human words could ever tell and she knew it now. she had been awaiting it and she felt it, as if it had been, as if she had lived it. life had been, if only because she had known it could be, and she felt it now as a hymn without sound, deep under the little whole that dripped red drops into the snow, deeper than that from which the red drops came. a moment or an eternity- did it matter? life, undefeated, existed and could exist. she smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
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The very best reason parents are so special . . . is because we are the holders of a priceless gift, a gift we received from countless generations we never knew, a gift that only we now possess and only we can give to our children. that unique gift, of course, is the gift of ourselves. whatever we can do to give that gift, and to help others receive it, is worth the challenge of all our human endeavor.
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When she closed her eyes she felt he had many hands, which touched her everywhere, and many mouths, which passed so swiftly over her, and with a wolflike sharpness, his teeth sank into her fleshiest parts. naked now, he lay his full length over her. she enjoyed his weight on her, enjoyed being crushed under his body. she wanted him soldered to her, from mouth to feet. shivers passed through her body.
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She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. she was beautiful, for the way she thought. she was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. she was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. no, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. she was beautiful, deep down to her soul. she is beautiful.
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One thing i did have under my belt was, my mother lost her mother when she was 11. she mourned her mother her whole life and made my grandmother seem present even though i never met her. i couldn't imagine how my mom could go on but she did, she took care of us, she worked two jobs and had four children. she was such a good example of how to conduct oneself in a time of grief. when i lost my husband, i tried to model myself as much as i could on her.
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She was made up of more, too. she was the books she read in the library. she was the flower in the brown bowl. part of her life was made from the tree growing rankly in the yard. she was the bitter quarrels she had with her brother whom she loved dearly. she was katie's secret, despairing weeping. she was the shame of her father stumbling home drunk. she was all of these things and of something more...it was what god or whatever is his equivalent puts into each soul that is given life - the one different thing such as that which makes no two fingerprints on the face of the earth alike.
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