Glow

I haven't been home enough. We've laughed through the phone and exchanged smiling photographs, but I just haven't been home enough. 

Mummy is the strongest person I know. She refuses to see any more of the month-long physical and emotional pain her health recently burdened her with. Our talk-time has reduced drastically over the days because of her inability to speak, so we play charades instead. She doesn’t give two hoots that her typos make her sentences look like gibberish, and quips instead that we were all playing a guessing game anyway. 

Not once has she caved in to the idea of pipe-food that her doctor had meekly suggested she would require towards the end of her treatment. She prepares her own meals with an honest smile, although her favorite chilis are missing and her food must be churned to slop. 

Mummy wakes up with her curls glinting under the cool lights of sunrise, and wills her inner strength higher than before. She spends her days not teaching algebra anymore, but reading books by the window to learn about her inner landscapes and spiritual calling. She writes poetic thoughts in her journal in the most incredible cursive I’ve ever seen. Thinks about her family with all the loving in her big heart. Then thinks about herself in a manner most selfless, most reflective, and promises to be a little bit bolder every day. Her determination is fire, her soul an unrelenting glow. 

If I could be anywhere in the world at any moment in time, it would be by mummy’s side. 

Because I want to be home enough.