The Information Highway

When I am old and gray- older and grayer, I hope my son can close his eyes and remember me before my face was lined- the information highway, I call it.

This line is when you started driving, I tell him. This is when you had that eye surgery. These twenty lines are when you were fighting in the war and I would go weeks on end without hearing from you. No news is good news: my mantra then and now.

This crease here, this is when you came home with invisible scars. I see them still.

I want my son to close his eyes and remember when he was about seven years old and I woke him up at midnight and drove to Madrone Canyon to watch a meteor shower. I want him to remember how I blasted Willie Nelson and sometimes Leon Redbone in the car and how I sang off key, the world’s worst rendition of "The Sun Will Come out Tomorrow" whenever he was sad.

These lines here and here, they are from the smile you have given me. Thank you for picking me as your mom.

In Honor of Mother's Day- Published Marin Independent Journal May 2012