Worthy

Mom won every game we played: Candy Land, Go Fish, Gin Rummy for a penny a point, Clue. She won. I rebelled.

She wanted me to be a lady, so I climbed trees and street lights. She worked three jobs to provide for me. I resented the time I spent without her and used that time to get into trouble. She wanted me to go to college, but I got pregnant fresh out of high school. I moved partway across the country to show her I didn’t need her. I only thought I won.

The cancer really won. Mom’s impending death brought me back to her side. I thought I would have time to mend fences. She was my mother-- always waiting for me, the prodigal daughter, to return.

She deserved better than a daughter who fought against her at every turn. I was what she had. I had forgotten how to tell her I loved her until winter upended the skies for a March snowfall. Parking lots were dotted with dirty snow piled high. Mom dared me to beat her at King of the Hill, another game I never won. Although weak, with a scarecrow’s frame, she scrambled to the top of the mounded snow. I followed. We wrestled, but she was dug in. I couldn’t dislodge her. I tumbled to the pavement below, spitting snow and laughing.

As I looked at her sitting on top of the snow, cheeks and nose beet red, tiny flakes sparkling on her lashes, and heard her laughter ring out, my soul began singing. My past failings as a daughter didn't matter. God deemed me worthy of this perfect moment of shared laughter and love with my mother to carry with me forever.

(First appeared in Ruminate Magazine issue #41 Winter 2016/17)