I was fooling myself
Thinking the snow man I built would weather the changes
But now I am erased
Just a puddle with a wet scarf
No longer a daughter if she doesn’t remember me
I wanted more time to be me before I was an orphan
More technically I am motherless
In a single moment I am evaporated
She was talking about me but I was in the room
Sitting on her bed like a ghost
Reminding her that I loved her
She thanked me
I wonder why certain things stick with her in that dementia brain
“It’s good the dog’s not fat”
“I worked with her when I was teaching”
“Your father forgot to take out the trash”
“She’s always stealing my favorite sweater”
But my importance
The essence of being a daughter is lost
Once apart of her body
But now, time slips through my fingers
The soft whooshing and delicate feeling almost a tickle
She was a placeholder for “Mother” for a long time
I didn’t rely on her for comfort or advice
Her counsel was not sought
She was too difficult a personality to navigate so I used distance as a buffer
But at least she was someone I could point to
A living example of my lineage
Proof of where I fled from
But she is not mother anymore
And I am not daughter
It's a blip on my personal resume
I hope at least I was a good one
She used to joke that she was disappointed I wasn't a better shopper
Since she was a champion at it
She told me once when we were disagreeing that “I don’t know where you came from. You are so different from me.”
I came from you, Momma
Different terms define me now
Wife, step mother, Dog mom, artist, writer, friend, sister
Mother and daughter
Their time has expired