My Mother….

My Mother….

A real precious stone,

A real diamond,

A graceful role model,

Always kind,

Then until that one phone call,

She is in a comma.

I wept like she was already gone,

Maybe I didn’t believe that she was in a comma,

At home, friends and family gathered,

As I arrived, she was not there,

Everyone else was there, but she was not there,

Furniture was moved around, she was not there,

My aunts sat in a mattress in the living area,

The “room divider” covered,

The sofas were not there,

Everything has been moved around.

Everyone is looking all sad and puzzled,

But still I’m looking for her, my mother isn’t there,

Everyone is trying to read my face, what am thinking,

What am I going to do next?

I couldn’t careless,

My eyes are looking out for my mother,

She is nowhere to be seen.

Then I asked my sister,

Where is my mother, she couldn’t answer me,

Then I started shouting asking “Where is my mother?”

Screamed and cried the whole house

“Where is my mother?”

“Where is she?”

Everyone is comforting me,

I don’t like what they are doing,

Because they are not answering me,

“Where is my mother?”

“I want her, I want her now!”

“I want my mother!”

“I want her to be here!”

This cannot be happening,

I can’t accept she is not here,

“Leave me alone!”

“I want my mother; I want her to be here now!”

“Where is she?”

As I calm down, I could imagine what she would say

“Now pull yourself together, there is nothing you can do” she would say,

She is gone and that I have to accept,

Now I had to pull myself together and face reality,

My source of strength and purpose for living was gone,

My mother was no more,

I love you Mama,

I love you Mrs Ngubane