Somewhere Out There

My Mom moved to New Orleans from Honduras in the 1970s.  She said she would miss her family so much that she would lock herself in her room and cry.  When we watched that movie An American Tail after the song “Somewhere Out There” came on she said that was such a pretty song.  I just listened to it again and imagined her missing her family.

My Mom was a very lovely lady.  She died almost 12 years ago now, and when she died people from Church told me they respected her because she didn’t gossip or ever criticize other people.  She never talked bad about anybody they told me.  She was very involved in the Catholic Church and sometimes we would pray the rosary together.  Even when we travelled we always went to church on Sunday.   When she was alive I spoke to her almost every day.

I took care of my Mother and stayed with her in the hospital for about a month when she was dying of pneumonia.  My whole family came to the hospital and was in the waiting room the night that she died in the ICU.  We prayed a novena at my house where I built a huge altar for her in the following days.

She did such a good job taking care of me throughout my childhood and even as an adult.  When I would start to feel scared she would make me take all the images out of my room and try to sleep.  Like really take down all of the art that I hung on my wall.  She cooked dinner almost every night after she came home from work.  She worked very hard and she and my Dad put me through private school.

She loved to sing and dance and she would sew us matching clothes sometimes when I was little.  She always bought me pretty dresses, but hardly ever spent any money on herself.  She was strict as a parent, not letting me go out too much at night, and she was always reading something.  She loved romance novels, but then started reading books about the Catholic Saints.

I had a lot of dreams about her after she died.  Dreams where she told me if I ever missed her I could just squint my eyes like when you’re crying and she would be right there.  Last month, I had a dream my Mom touched my forehead and said, “I love you.  I am your only Mother.”  She had written a poem for me and I for her.  I don’t remember how the poems went.  I love and miss my Mom so much tonight.  The night before Mother’s Day.  Hug your Mom if you still can.