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Sunday Soliloquy: Chicken Soup For The Motherless Daughter’s Soul October 11, 2009

Filed under: Sunday Soliloquy,Uncategorized — afrocity @ 1:53 PM
Global Warming Protest Today in Chicago

Global Warming Protest Today in Chicago

Allergy season has left me feeling somewhat under the weather today.
I battle this pretty much all year around as I am allergic to dust, mold, and ragweed. Oh and I forgot that I am also susceptible to cat dander and I own two cats despite my constant sneezing and itching, proving that love indeed requires tolerance and Rhinocort.


Speaking of the weather, unfortunately Chicago is living up to its two season reputation. Temperatures plummeted to 30 chilly degrees last night. On cold days such as this, I warm up something to take the chill off and crank up the heat. I bought special chocolate covered marshmallows with peppermint chips to go along with my Ghiradelli white chocolate cocoa mix. A tea light candle is burning inside of my silver kitty head shaped jack o’ lantern.

I walk to my window to look at the lake. No more sailboats, instead just cold and black water.

During this reflective moment, I considered myself lucky. If this had been twenty years ago, there is a possibility  that I would have been ill with a sinus infection and sleeping in a house with no heat. The look back and laugh days was what my mother called them.  My memory took into account the stark contrast of the lovely furniture that surrounded me with the one simple bed my mother and I shared at 637 N. Central Ave.

No gas, heat no water. Now here I am decades later drinking $6 cocoa with $12 dollar marshmallows floating on top, a Persian cat, and a receipt for the $1850 of rent I just paid.

Next to my window is an original George Nelson credenza I purchased in New York City when I began collecting modern mid century furniture.  Inside the credenza is a box containing my mother’s ashes. I would not go there again. I would not take the ashes out and looks at them. That is morbid. It cures nothing.

It was always common for me to want to share everything with my mother.  There were times when I would attend a party for kids only. Knowing that we had no food at home, I would bring something back to share with her. Deviled eggs did not make for good leftovers especially wrapped in a Kleenex , stuffed in an eleven year old’s jeans pocket.  Still, she ate it and I was happy that I could share my fortune that day with her.

Now, I only wanted her to drink cocoa with me and sit by the warm fire watching the lake.  Death leaves you powerless. It is that one irreversible act.

Why us?I wondered.

Why would God take you away from me when I was not finished making you happy? I was not finished undoing all of the hard times we shared. Forgiving God has been a slow process for me. He knew how much it meant to me to make mother happy. To make her having me and not getting an abortion worth it. Just when I was prepared to give her the life she wanted, he took her.

My good fortune wasted, all that is left is cocoa, cats, marshmallows, and ashes.

Autographed Letter Signed,



17 Responses to “Sunday Soliloquy: Chicken Soup For The Motherless Daughter’s Soul”

  1. Karen LH Says:

    I don’t really know you: I’ve just been lurking for a few months, but…

    (1) You’re a lovely, graceful young woman,

    (2) You’ve “made it” materially,

    (3) You’re your own person and are not going along with the herd, and

    (4) You loved her and wanted “to give her the life she wanted”.

    I suspect you have been “worth it” to her many times over.

  2. LJSNAustin Says:

    Oh goodness. This one brought me to tears, AC. I felt a physiological punch in the stomach when I read the line about the box containing your mother’s ashes in your credenza. Remember that hug I gave you when I dropped you off at the hotel in Austin? I said it was for all the times I had read your blog entries such as this and just wanted to give you a hug…well, this is another one.

  3. You’re still making her happy and proud. I’m sorry you can’t see it in her eyes as she looks down upon you. Always a pleasure to read you.

    P.S. I’d definitely pay $18.00 for that cup of cocoa!

  4. Holly Says:

    Your mother continues to live in you, as does God.

    You are a beautiful person.

  5. janet oliver Says:

    Just found this beautiful, touching site. I come to Chicago regularly and would love to have cocoa. I lost my mother at 5. Your love and dedication are shared.

  6. joanelle Says:

    She did what she was put here to do, and you are the product of her efforts – how proud she must be.

  7. Drusilla Says:

    Oh my dear – how heartbreakingly lovely. I wish I could make it easy for you and yet I don’t. God has more beauty for you than you can imagine precisely because you are willing to take the risk of treating Him as a friend, as the very real Person he is.

    I am so greatful to have found your site. God bless you, I’ll keep you in my prayers and return here when I can.

  8. mainenowandthen Says:

    Perhaps God saw what a good job your mother had done in preparing you for your life and decided that there was another task that needed her abilities more.

    Losing a parent(s) is a most difficult thing for so many of us – we always wish that we could have done more for those who brought us to where we are today.

    I miss my parents dearly, but I hope that I can live the kind of life that would make them proud and I try for that goal.

    God bless.

  9. BaldManMoody Says:

    Afrocity – heartfelt entries like this are why I come here on a daily basis hoping to see another one up on the site. Beautiful, well written and it captures so much of what I am afraid I will one day have to suffer through as well.

    Thankfully, I was lucky enough to not live through most all of the pains that you have had to live through in life. However, time is the equalizer of all men. I know losing my favorite uncles/aunts (almost like grandparents to me) has been hard and I don’t even want to think about what will happen when I lose my own parents.

    I will need lots of cocoa, I guess. No more cats – one is enough.

  10. phoenixgirl Says:


  11. IslandLibertarian Says:

    Perhaps there is another young and future “Afrocity” that you could help and make happy in your mothers memory.
    She would be very blessed indeed.

  12. Sibyl Says:

    I understand. I come from several generations of ‘motherless’ and ‘fatherless’ men and women due to death, mental illness, war, addictions, wounds to the soul.

    It leaves a lot of unfinished business that we have to place at the foot of the cross.
    Emily Dickinson says remorse/regret is like a huge empty basement where we can get trapped.
    Jesus said ‘Into Thy hands I commend…’ It is finally freedom to let God the Father, The Righteous Judge and Son, our Advocate, and Holy Spirit, our helper and teacher, help you examine the case, the evidence, circumstantial, solid, concrete, witness testimony, assumptions, assertions, etc., then to lay a plea of ‘nolo contendere’ entrusting the eternal outcome of all our concerns and circumstances upon the bench before the True Judge who alone can rule with perfect Justice, Mercy, Power, Might, Holiness, Light, Righteousness, Peace, Truth, Love and Life. ‘What a privilege to carry every thing to God in prayer.’

    “Be still and know that I AM GOD.” The ‘be still’ means to let go, release, die, relinquish. The prayer of relinquishment to submit, entrust, (commit, commend, let go) of a matter to God Our True Father (Catherine Marshall, Adventures in Prayer) is one of the greatest privileges that our Christian birth into God’s family allows us.

    May the peace of Jerusalem enfold and uphold you and enable you to rest all in Him.
    In Christ,

  13. yttik Says:

    What a beautiful post. You are a great writer, Afrocity.

  14. HT Says:

    Came as usual on Sunday, read and left. Not because I didn’t appreciate your musings and the tribute you paid to your mother, but because it was for me a melancholy moment. My mom died 26 years ago and I still miss her terribly.
    Don’t feel guilty about what you can’t give to your mom today – Feel good about what you gave to her – a beautiful, articulate, independent caring child who loved her unconditionally.

  15. HT Says:

    What more could any Mom ask for?

  16. Uppity Woman Says:

    God, this entry makes me miss my mother soooooo much.

    I might as well also confess. I read you all the time. But this time you brought me some tears. But that’s ok. Sometimes I need reminding that I’m not all toughness.

  17. turn Says:

    {afrocity} Touching story, I’ve missed my mom just about every day since I was 12. She died of cancer and the whole family watched her dwindle away powerless to do anything about it. It just about bankrupted my dad, things were touch and go with the bank for several years. We have a lot in common. Sorry about those allergies too, at least you’re not allergic to peanuts … oh wait! haha I’ll try and visit more often, come join us at the Correspondence Committee blog.

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