Treats

Poetic Reflection on my Mother's Death 20 Years Ago

Treats

“I don’t ever want to be

A burden to my family!”

My mother would frequently say

When she was still alive.

Having buried her last month

After she dropped dead suddenly

Of what the coroner called

On the death certificate “natural causes,’

I want to tell her

Now that I no longer can,

That she was never a burden,

And what joy and happiness

Was in her loud laughter,

And massive smile,

What tenderness in her words

Of solace and praise.

As when four months unemployed

Just last year during the downturn

She said so easily and quickly,

“God doesn’t close one door

He doesn’t open another!

You’re a good father

And a good man, Bruce.

Someone’s going to see that!”

And out of the blue

I’m working on a manual

For a robotic gene detection system

To protect Americans from anthrax.

She didn’t know what job I would get,

But her unquestioning faith

In God, her children, and her country

Told her that some job would arrive,

As if by an angel delivered express

From God, whose mystery,

Manifest in the Sacred Heart of Christ,

Shone from cards on the walls

And dressers from wherever she lived.

“Let’s take a walk up to the boardwalk

And get a treat!” she’d say

On cool nights in Cape May,

And she would trundle her brood

Up to the one pier there

And line us all up for ice cream

In a ritual she repeated

With eight children and 20 grandchildren.

Thanks for the treats, Mom,

That helped me deal with unemployment,

And other body blows life deals out,

The threat of terrorists and anthrax.

Thanks for the treat of your legacy, Mom,

Of how to deal with life’s body blows

Sometimes with solace and praise,

Sometimes with loud laughter,

Sometimes with quiet tears,

Sometimes with self confidence,

And sometimes with simple boardwalk ice cream.

Bruce Curley

Mount Airy, MD, USA

Sunday, May 23, 2004