Mother's Day

I can’t count the number of mothers I’ve had

Today I woke up feeling like a beggar

Wait, that’s not true

At first I didn’t know what day it was

But then

I remembered

And I stroked my angry little loss

Like a Persian cat in a supervillain’s lap

 

On this day, this annual holiday, I find

myself scrounging for narratives, for

the old fighting position

Not against my mother

But her allies

Who shred open the earth to appear like Japanese Knotweed

Never where you want them

Persistent as fuck:

The townsfolk

Random theatregoers

AT&T customer service

 

I forget the violence of defending my choices to utter strangers, to mild acquaintances

 

Here’s where she bit my sister

No, not me, she ____________.

And then she ____________________________.

So I left.

 

Wait, that’s not true.

I was eased out of there.

By the sister who already left

By the one who was beaten

By the one who fought back

By the one who mothered me

Ushered me

Into the arms of another

 

A dyke with stout calves and strong hands

Who turns heads of all genders, who went to Catholic college on a softball scholarship

Who’d take the smallest, weakest crumb of a baby and nurse it back to life

Who taught me how to swim with a school of fish

 

To see outside the walls of my own needs,

the structure that held out every previous siege

 

I became an older sister

Brothers and sisters blossomed into the garden of my life

 

Things no longer just HAPPENED to me and then I would deal with them. I started to move, really move. I started to respond, not react. I started to choose.

 

Then time.

Time and time and time.

 

I was mothered by my family, and I mothered my family.

 

Mothers can come from anywhere.

You just have to be open.

Wait, that’s not true.

 

Because even the chosen ones, even the healers, even the most generous people in the world, can choose differently.

 

You’d seen me fold, my entire life. I’d protect myself by freezing, by fleeing.

I was still a good kid.

Never tell your child they’re a ‘good kid’.

Bite your tongue before you release that curse.

Words are spells in our mouths

And you knew what you were conjuring

 

My sickness scared you

You thought it was catching

You promised me you wouldn’t minimize my pain

But I should’ve toughed it out

I should’ve got in the car and picked up my pain medication

I should’ve fulfilled my responsibilities

I should’ve lied still, and not made a peep

I should’ve gotten out of the bed you made for me

I shouldn’t’ve slept with him

I shouldn’t’ve let him touch me

I shouldn’t’ve been so stupid

I should’ve just disappeared

 

You’ve misbehaved, so badly

 

Good kids don’t live through mistakes

 

When you grow a backbone, like they asked,

be prepared

 

Praise be to bad kids

Pour one out for the difficult children

No more good kids!

Our cries will madden you, our demands will sink civilization, our logic with singe off every hair on your body

 

I’m on strike, mom. Didn’t you know?

Didn’t you see, mom?

 

That word tastes like pus on the page,

Like poison in my mouth.

 

Bad kids mother themselves.

 

Bad kids find bad mothers and good mothers, and temporary mothers, ride or die mothers, fair weather mothers, but we will find them.

 

I promise.

 

A bad kid’s promise is unbreakable.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to Meils.

Happy Mother’s Day to Hannah.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to Cortland.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to Fay and Liam and Declan and Emmett and Anya and Norau and Ronan.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to the Co-op.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to the Mountain Goats.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to the union.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to BoJack Horseman.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

 

Choose your family.

 

Over and over and over again.

 

They don’t have to be the same people each time.

 

Every field needs a razing for the native flora to return.

Annalise Cain