connected by him at nautilus teachings

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she sits quietly
eyes soft
hands clasped
as we get closer
she begins…
“what if…
and what if…
but, what if…”
bam, bam, bam
the questions
are hurled at us…
she is nervous
all the time
i think she was born this way
i see her as a
beautiful, gentle survivor…
bronx born,
drops the f-bomb
shares stories
that will make you
wet your pants
with laughter
and is now
waiting
to die…
but here is the thing
she may be 86
but her spirit is that
of a 60 year old
she wants to drive
to walk
to dance
but her body fails her
so she sits
watered with memory
waiting to be fed
changed
wishing
she could grow younger
knowing
its impossible…

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“donald, what if…”
“MA, ma,” he quiets his voice
“for every question
there is a solution…
remember
no matter where you go
bring your own sunshine
and it will be a good day…”
she loves her son
so she smiles
puts up one finger
(usually the middle one)
and is about to speak
“b……ok, ok Donald,
you are right…”
i love her as if she were my own mother
and will do anything for her
even sit quietly
and let her say
“but, but, but…”
i just smile my Sheri smile
nod and giggle
soaking in every moment
i get to share with her…

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young beauty
long legs
long hair
huge eyes
big dimples
smiles…
the boys
lick her all over
as she sits
listening to his words…
“what are your weaknesses?
what is your budget?
do the numbers…”
he teaches her about
NYC taxes
councils about spending
gets excited
sharing with her
the news,
“we found a short term rental…”
no,
it’s not in the bronx
no it’s not in manhattan
it’s in Jersey city…”
oh, the other side
of her dreams…
but she listens
and his voice is calm
filled with love…
they go inside,
father and daughter
look it up on the net
and then
gracefully she turns,
“yeah, yeah, dad i will do this…
thank you. it will give me a chance…..”

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i am lost in the connection
they share
i watch as they so easily
talk about the city
he was born and raised in
went to school in
subways,
trains,
X line?
Y line?
all foreign words to me…
i am on the outside
and it’s ok
i like it here…
and then his words…
“i will fly mom with you
so she can help…”
i suck in still air
and think
oh no you won’t
we cannot spend 5 minutes alone
she has not needed me
since she was 11
and, OMG
no, please don’t make me…
“but it’s Manhattan, Sheri
she’s 21
she needs you wether
she knows it or not…”
i think to myself
does she need me, really?
no.
he needs her to need me
and i need to listen
to what his heart is saying
which is,
“my baby girl is going away
i want to know she is safe
and only you can make sure she is…”
it doesn’t matter that i have never been
doesn’t matter that i am scared
shitless of this city
i have to
“put my big girl panties on
and deal with it…”

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she flits out ,
off with a girlfriend,
then tomorrow
up to Tally
to get her cat
and then
the last home week
will begin…
she will pack
i will watch
she will leave behind
only her scent
and the memory
of her shrieking
every time she came in the house
in that high pitched voice,
“booooyyyyyysss, i’m home…”
they will sulk
mope
wallow
and once more
land near my feet
be my shadow
and sit by the window
waiting for her return
just like mom
who sits by the window
watching the children play
at the schoolyard next door
remembering her own days
of jump rope
hopscotch
and mother may i games…
mother and granddaughter
connected by him
both looking to him
for answers
guidance
support
and love
and he,
oh he,
the man i love so much
giving it all so freely
and with such ease…
i stand back
and marvel at him as
he just drip, drip, drips
unconditional love…

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