It hung there in the closet
While she was dying, Mother’s red dress,
Like a gash in the row
Of dark, old clothes
She had worn away her life in. They had called me home
And I know when I saw her
She wasn’t going to last. When I saw the dress, I said
”Why, Mother–how beautiful!
I’ve never seen it on you.”
”I’ve never worn it,” she slowly said. ”Sit down, Millie– I’d like to undo
A lesson or two before I go, if I can.”
I sat by her bed
And she sighed a bigger breath
Than I thought she could hold. ”Now that I’ll soon be gone,
I can see some things.
Oh, I taught you good–but I taught you wrong.”
”What do you mean, Mother?”
”Well– I always thought
That a good woman never takes her turn,
That she’s just for doing for somebody else
Do here, do there, always keep
Everybody else’s wants tended and make sure
Yours are at the bottom of the heap. ”Maybe someday your’ll get to them. But of course you never do.
My life was like that– doing for your dad,
Doing for the boys, for your sisters,for you.”
”You did– everything a mother could.”
”Oh, Millie, Millie, it was no good–
For you–for him. Don’t you see? I did you the worst of wrongs.
What happened next changed everything…
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