The Gulf
My 99 year old mother sits in the passenger seat. It's a breezy October morning in Vermont and I'm driving on a road that winds down for miles into a gulf, a deep hollow between mountains.
Trees at the edge of the road let go of their leaves all at once as we pass, uncover a sky as blue as the morning glories blooming around doorways. “Heavenly Blue,” they're called.
“My, my,” my mother says again and again.
She sits still as stone, her purse in her lap, as if the slightest movement might break the spell. She could ride like this forever.
Although lately she's been saying some man keeps calling her up and asking her out. She won't go. She says she thinks she knows who it is.
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Author's Note
I wrote this to honor my Mom who lived to be 101 years old.
Published in VerbSap in 2008.
"She sits still as stone, her purse in her lap, as if the slightest movement might break the spell. She could ride like this forever."
A special piece. *
A perfect gem.
A memorable drive, it seems.
Really enjoyed this so much. Perfect detail.
may she ride like this forever, if only in our dreams *
"My,my..."
Balanced exactly.
Wonderful! *
Yes, a wonderful moving poem. It's a lovely thing to remember mom. Mine lived to be 82. She was always fond of saying, "Getting old is not for sissies." *
Thanks everybody for your kind and generous comments. So nice of you. My mother would pretend to be a little embarrassed by all the attention.
She secretly likes it though, I'm pretty sure.
"pretend to be a little embarrassed" What a lady!
This is just so well done *
Love this. My mom is 95 and asks interesting questions these days.
Just a slice, but a fine one.
*****
Thank you Foster, Joani, and James Lloyd. I appreciate your encouragement more than I can say. It really helps.
This was a comfort. Lost my mom 8 years ago.
*
Thank you Kitty. Thank you Matthew. I appreciate your reading, commenting, and faving.
Much more in "The Gulf" than meets the eyes.
Good work.
Thank you!