Mother's Day--a Sybylla story

Mother's Day--A Sybylla story


It has been over a year since I have spoken to Sybylla. Sybylla is a veiled mermaid that resides in the retention pond behind my condo. She came to live there when toxic algal blooms poisoned the Gulf of Mexico and she remained through the height of the Covid pandemic. She helped me keep my sanity with her oracular statements during the Covid times of isolation.


I had gone down to the pond Mother's Day at sunset to watch the cerulean sky turn to purple and pinks. I was still wearing my white carnation
corsage. Growing up, it was a tradition to wear a white carnation on Mother's Day if your mother had passed, or a red one if she was living.

I wasn't expecting to see Sybylla after so much clock time had passed. I knew though that the trickle and glimmer of thought and feeling across time and space kept us connected.

I heard a scraping sound in the shallows of the pond accompanied by the smell of singed grass and knew she was there. Sybylla had become more verbal with each meeting, but was always curt and to the point.

In her gravelly voice she blurted, "CuriousWhat's with the white flower?". I explained to her the symbolism of the flower. I also added that my mother's life had been a catastrophe marred by mental illness and an early death from cancer. I knew that I still carried a mother wound in my body and soul.

"Give your pain," chanted Sybylla, "to the Great Cosmic Mother, She who births all, She who nurtures all."

With a splash she disappeared into the depths of the pond.

Watching the last rays of sunlight dappled over the water I removed my carnation and placed it at the water's edge. Slowly, imperceptibly I watched as the flower petals changed from white to red.

"Good night, Mama", I whispered , "I love you".