Chicago,
The home ground of what I used to call a Haven,
A safe place to stay;
What now lies all the memories long since past,
Memories long forgotten
As I sit here,
Wishing I could recall those memories again;
I stand in front of a house,
An address scribbled on my hand
Matching the one on the house,
A house I assume to be mine;
I could faintly remember the smell of my parents;
Happiness floating in the air,
An abundance of love still lingering;
I see a picture on the wall
Of a mother and father and their precious baby boy,
All smiling like the normal family they were,
Unaware of the epidemic to befall on them seventeen years later
And rip their family apart;
I remember my mother, mostly;
She was my idol, my hero,
Just as any mother is to their child,
But it was different;
Our bond was a special one,
One that was broken merely by death;
Not even sickness could break it,
Because here I stand,
Feeling her hug me and tell me everything will be alright;
Just a ghostly memory,
One that I wished faded away with the rest of time,
But it seemed to remain,
The last time I saw my mother's face
Shortly before her death;
I reminisce here,
Holding all the memoirs I can keep of them in my head
And wait for the tears to fall on my pale cheeks,
Only realizing a moment later that it will never happen;
I continue on throughout the house,
Occasionally stopping to grab a photo or perhaps a knick-knack
To take back with me,
When I stumble upon a room
Where a dust coated grand piano still lay,
Book still open to Tears of Heaven,
My mother's favorite piece,
As her book lay open to a chapter that would forever stand still
On her rocking chair;
I collapsed,
No longer able to bare the regret and remorse filling my soul;
The anguish, the sadness,
The forever lost hope, the emptiness,
The longing,
A longing for her to hold me and tell me a story,
Rocking me to sleep
Like when I was a boy;
I never felt a stronger need than at this moment,
Desperately needing my mother's touch
To heal my tortured soul;
If I just had a chance to say goodbye,
Maybe everything would be easier;
Maybe I wouldn't be sitting here,
Calling out to my dead mother,
Sobbing and begging her to come back home with me;
Home;
Chicago
Was now my own personal Heaven,
Storing the memories I've forgotten
For me to regain again,
And hopefully,
As I sit here praying,
Praying silently,
To give my mother back to me.