A Mother's Love

As the sun stretches its rays to hoist itself above the horizon, the inhabitants of the city emerge from the wombs of their houses like newborn birds, ready to face the day; But not I, for my house is one in mourning. I took care of my son. To say he loved me was an altogether different matter, but a mother will always continue to love her child. No matter how little it is reciprocated

Almost two years ago, when the doctors found the cancer in his blood and in his liver, I asked him how he felt, his reply was:

“I’m dying, Evangeline.” For he never called me mother, “How do you think I feel?” That would become his mantra for whenever I asked him that question.

I wish I could say it was the cancer that caused Alex’s ill feelings towards me, but he had been that way for much longer. Child psychologists told me he was externalizing his anxiety over losing his father after the divorce. Alex continued to spite me, even while the cancer spread, and the chemo ravaged his body.

At times there were brief lapses in his caustic mood, and the vulnerable child beneath could be glimpsed. Although whether genuine, or merely the result of paroxysms of agony and fear, I will never know.

A few weeks after he passed, I began seeing and hearing my son as though he were accompanying me wherever I went, taunting me as he so often had.

“Are you really going to wear that in public? Can’t you ever make a decision?” Never once had I spoken back, defended myself. I simply let him speak. Even now, as I lay in bed staring at the urn cradling his ashes he whispers.

“I’m dying, Evangeline. How do you think I feel?” Over and over and over until finally I break the cumbersome chain and scream:

“Enough! What do you want from me?”

“Will you miss me?

Two months ago, on the night before he died, he allowed all of the pain and fear of the past year to flow from his nose and eyes. We spoke what we knew would be our final words to one another.

“Will you miss me, mom?” He asked.

At the time, I told him the truth:

“I…don’t know.”

But I do, Alex. Oh god, I do.