Mom & Grandma Marion with Laura Sue
Her Name is Marion
Susan H. Hajec
She is somebody
her name is Marion.
She is somebody
she is my mother.
She is somebody
she is ill with Alzheimer’s.
She is somebody
she is the delete key that’s been
mistakenly pressed on the computer of life.
She is the jigsaw puzzle
with the missing pieces.
She is the finished recipe
minus a key ingredient.
She is the sunset
blocked from view.
She is the wrapped birthday present
without the signed card.
My mother is somebody
Alzheimer’s is the lurking bandit.
My mother is somebody.
She is the gentle sensation of peach fuzz
on my cheek.
My mother is somebody.
She is the beckoned smile from a baby.
My mother is somebody.
She is the organizer in a house of chaos.
She is somebody
her name is Marion.
She is somebody
she is my mother.
written at IWWG, Skidmore 2004.
In the photo above, mom is with our firstborn daughter, Laura Sue, dressing her for her Baptism in Lexington, Kentucky in July 1966. You can tell by the instant, strong eye contact that they had a most precious bond throughout mom’s life. I remember being so proud to share our daughter with my parents — what an immeasurable blessing it was for us all — to be duplicated once more two years later with the birth of our second daughter, Kathleen Marie.
My days continue as a mom and I have many happy days, not just one a year because I am a mom.
Napkinwriter 