Tomorrow

 I said, "I'll see you tomorrow." 

You nodded weakly and replied, "Tomorrow." 

 

But tomorrow never came. 
"Tomorrow" is the last word 
I ever heard you say.
"Tomorrow," haunts me. 

 

For weeks you said you were ready to go 
because you were in so much pain
but I was afraid to lose you, Mom, 
to lose your wisdom 
all your love
your strength. 

 

The world is colder without you
my poem shivers on the page. 

I try to embrace the echoes
of your voice

that still linger.

 

Your dog stopped eating

no matter what I tried 

he just laid 

with his head on your purse

still full of prescription bottles

and butterscotch candies.  

Graham buried him this morning

under your favorite pine tree. 

When your heart stopped
for a moment 
I thought all the clocks
everywhere, would too.  
How can the world  
continue to spin without you?

 

I pretend you aren't gone

I'm just too busy to call, but

yellow roses make me 
think of you. 

 

You created stories, 
dimensions, whole worlds 
with simple words
places I wanted to go
people I wanted to know.

 

Such a talented storyteller 
but now you have become the story
one that I must pass on. 

 

Being your daughter 
didn't end when you died 
you will always be my mom
and I will always miss you

until tomorrow finally comes.   

_______________________________________

I lost my mom to cancer back in 2014. It has taken me this long to write a poem for her. 

Her dog really did stop eating after she died, and he laid on the floor with his head on her purse. 

This picture was taken just before we found out she was sick.