Kitschy moments

When my mother lost her life,
many years before her death
I could not cope well
and I cried in the garden,
as she did in the nursing home.
Never were we both so alone.
Then a butterfly landed on my hand,
I remember I thought it a kitschy moment.

It stayed there till my tears were over.
When I finally returned
to my mother, days later, she
who had never done any drawing,
drew what to me looked like a butterfly
on the steamed window.
She said it was a handkerchief
and I agreed. But it was a butterfly.

From then on, in other kitschy moments,
in leaps of time, in hidden meanings,
if I looked beyond, I found answers.
Now and then we understood
that words could move silently between us
like our thoughts. Her eyes spoke for her.
She had forgotten me,
but her body knew I was the child she carried.


Comments on: "Kitschy moments" (6)

  1. Second try! Don’t know where my comment went.

    This is sad but beautifully written. As I said in my first comment have you written about this before? If not then I am having a psychic moment! Lol

    L&H xx

    • Hi Christine, thank you very much. There is no comment in the filter, so I don’t know where it went either.

      I am quite sure I have written about my mother before, not about that moment I think. All the butterflies we are having now, made me think of this occasion. It then seemed a bit kitschy. Now I like the idea. 🙂

      L&H xx

  2. There are lots of butterflies here this year too. They are enjoying a real summer for a change just as we are!! Xx

  3. Oh, there are almost no words, Ina … this struck me as so beautifully sad and hopeful. Even when so much is taken away, something – often even more valuable – is given. XO ♥

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