Mama

"Hi mama," I said quietly as I knelt down in the cool grass of the late afternoon. I reached out and brushed a little bit of dirt from the smooth granite of the headstone; it was still a little warm from the sun.

"There are so many things I wanted to say to you," I began to talk to my mom, as if she were there, as if she could hear me. "Things that I never had a chance to say. Things that I didn't understand or couldn't express," my voice trailed off as memories came to the surface. Memories of good times, memories of how she had shaped my young life. Many of my memories flitted like insubstantial wisps, and others stood out in sharp detail.

"I know I probably never said it enough, but I love you. And I wanted to thank you," I paused, again assaulted by memories. "Mama thank you for who I am," I began, "thank you for all the things I'm not." I knew that because of her my job had a purpose. I was not like many of the others in the units who had little to no soul, who didn't care who they hurt and why.

"Mama remember all my life, you showed me love, You sacrificed. I think of those young and early days and how I've changed along the way," I continued to ramble on, just pouring my heart out. I felt tears begin to form, this day had been long in coming and now that it was here I found it hard to go on.

"I know you believed in me and I know you had dreams. And I'm sorry it took all this time for me to see; That I am where I am because of your truth. I miss you," I choked out, "I miss you."

I stood up on unsteady feet, "Everything that I am I owe to you, mama," I whispered and turned away.