My Mother’s Purse

“It’s practical,” she said, not caring that I laughed.

I promised to buy her a prettier one,

but now I won’t have that chance.

My mother’s purse is in my house, and my mother is with God.

If I could spend another moment with her,

I’d wrap my arms around her and never let go.

But all I have are memories and pictures,

and of course, her black purse.

The awkward long strap now seems fitting,

the numerous pockets not a hassle anymore.

The crisp leather smell is pleasing, and reminds me of her.

I toss it into my car and go for a drive,

and I swear I can feel her with me.

My mother’s purse is in my house, and my mother is with God.

I love her very much, and will always miss her so.

——————————-

Rest in peace, Mom.

 

Comments

  1. This is lovely – I can completely and totally relate. I have some of my mom’s possessions that now mean the world to me. Having them around, some with her lingering scent, keeps her just a little more alive. Many blessings to you on this new journey.

    1. Author

      Thank you, Taslim. It’s funny how some of the simplest things gain so much importance at times like these. We will always carry our mothers in our hearts.

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