My Mother Aurora who everyone called Dora. Happy Birthday, Mummy. My Forever Love.
Today my mother would have been 86 years old. Sadly, she fell victim to homicide when I was a 2-year-old toddler. I will always miss not knowing her. Some voids are permanent. It's life.
I don't have many pictures of her. And I have no memory of her at all. Still... she lingers on.
When I was 22 years old I wrote a poem about her in an attempt to try to make sense of my life, of her absence. To cope with how profoundly her tragic, violent death marred my life.
Following is an excerpt from a poem titled, Aurora, from The Sound of a Malady:
"Like the beautiful dawn of the morning sun, as a nova that flickers in the night blue sky,
rapid as a bolt of lightning you were gone, o farewell, beautiful morning sun. Goodbye."