I was talking to your mom the other day
She called me her “little kumquat”
Like it had only been a week since we talked
Not 12 years since she last called me her kumquat
And tried to talk me into taking you to Alaska with me:
Maybe I should have, ha
She was always the woman I wanted to be
Strong and powerful, a female Robert Plant,
Oozing sensuality and a wiseness beyond years…
I think she was probably my first girl crush
I used to think her and my dad would be so perfect
But then you and I would have been weird, ha
Such a stark contrast to my own mother:
Always weak and needing a man to fix everything.
Your mom represented everything feminist I wanted
Looking at her now, I suppose I always saw
What it was I needed to see, needed to emulate
It has taken some time and some men and some women
But I think I have it finally figured out, ha
A tall Celtic goddess in my mind,
The Lady Lazarus I pictured:
She is still the wise woman archetype in my dreams,
Imparting wisdom I must already know.
She shed light on how my son is like her own,
Yet still different.
No, I guess she doesn’t envy me.
But I guess I still envy her, ha.