Other Voices Magazine

The Monthlies

Winner April 2010

“There was something incredibly moving about witnessing the person you love interact with their whole family. The project of determining similar features, the language they have for things, turns of phrase. Things you thought were only theirs turned out to be derived from generations of relatives sharing movement and intonation.” —Zoe Whittall, Holding Still For As Long As Possible

It’s the Distance™
By: Susan Horkiri

My mother traveled
2, 587 miles
to be here
for the birth of my third baby.

My mother entered my kitchen
that first morning declaring,
“Ahhh! Coffee! The only good reason
To get up in the morning, aside
From a full bladder that is!” ™
My kitchen. My coffee. My morning joke.
All hers.

And later when my 4 year old showed
Proud indecipherable squiggles,
We nodded gravely and intoned,
“Wow, tell me all about it.” ™
And when my 2 year old nearly but
Not quite wiped out,
A stereo inhale ™, a stereo,
“That was close!” ™
And when she did wipe out 5 seconds later,
“Oopsy Daisy!” ™ we exclaimed brightly
(to encourage bravery.) ™

So it went all day,
Myself reflected back
In my mom-mirror.
Or was I the reflection?

When my husband came home from work,
There we were like the doo-wop girls,
Calling out, “Welcome home!” ™
Same time. Same tone. Same inflection. Same tilt of the head.
Same blend of genuine and manufactured enthusiasm.
As if we’d been home practicing all day,
Which in a way, we had.

That night I laid my baby down,
“Night night chickadee!” ™
And stood wondering…

If I did not have a
2, 587 mile safety net,
Who would I be?
Certainly not me. I would have had to bend,
And change and prune, unlearn myself,
Become something else.
“Just be yourself!” ™ wouldn’t have cut it
If “I” was already taken,
If “I” was forever the reflection.
If “I” didn’t have this distance,
“We” would not be free to be
So close.

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