My mother was born twenty-eight years before me.  She was my whole world, the only thing I had.  We did everything together and since I was the only child, she was my entertainment day and night.  We went on walks, rides, told stories, went shopping, on boat rides, auto trips and when I did become old enough to attend school, she saw to it that I went to the best private school available.  I had the best clothes and special shoes for my extra-narrow feet, and Mother saw to it that I had braced on my teeth which were crooked.  I had everything I needed, even though she had to work multiple jobs to pay for things.  She paid all the bills and there just was never anything left for her.

The years went by swiftly.  I just did not get time to visit my Mother.  Besides, my new wife does not like her.  My one son and wife keep me very busy around the house.  I am a busy fellow just as my Mother was.  Maybe I will see her next week.  I don’t know, next week my wife wants to visit her parents in Indiana.  I dread that three-hour drive.

Last week my Mom called me, begged me to come over and have a cup of coffee after work.  I told her I had grass to cut.  I don’t know for sure, but I think she was crying.  I haven’t been to her house for over year now.  I must find time  somehow but things are hectic.

Mom told me how Grandma was sick and dying.  Mom did lots with Grandma.  They went to lunch and dinner together and had tea and went to plays and took long trips.  I don’t know how Mom found the time with all her work.  She worked until she was in her 60’s.

It was a special night when Grandma died.  Mom was with her.  She was with her the whole time.  When Mom called me with the news, she sid that she didn’t want me to have to go through the pain and sorrow like she did.  She said it was horrid and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  I made a promise to myself to stop by and visit.  But I didn’t.

Mom used to go to Grandma’s grave every Sunday with a bouquet of roses.  They would sit and visit until the gates closed.

Two years later my Mother passed away and I never diid make it over to see her.  We never had dinner alone together and never even talked over a cup of coffee.  I found out from my nehew that her death was very painful but she never complained. Her only complaint was that she never saw her son and only saw her grandson once and he is now in the Navy.  She doesn’t even have pictures.

The irony of it all is now that he is divorced from the first wife, he is happily married, and his new wife told him that there is a difference between the love for a Mother and the love for a wife.  Did the former wife just expect him home and away from his Mother for jealous, insecure reasons?  What should he have done?  He lies in bed, awake alot at night and thinks, with tears now and then.