Hi. This is the first time I have properly written about my mother, and I‘m gonna keep it short. I may write a poem about her at some point, but for now, i want to put out how i feel about her today.
You see, when I think of my mother there are no words involved at all, so writing about her is difficult. It’s an intangible, ethereal experience, at times involving images that are traumatic. If I can get into a zone I can transcend these imprints and can enjoy 15 years of great memories. That is how long I knew her, 15 years. Of course, there is no such thing as time, but you can fit a lot of beautiful moments inside the illusion of 15 years. And you’re gonna love this. Her name was Wendy Angela Darling, named after the Peter Pan character. That always makes me smile. Darling is my favourite word and whenever somebody calls me darling or calls somebody else darling in it’s truest affectionate form, it always puts a big smile on my face. The word is a term of endearment, and there is no other word that best fits my mother.
I guess I must be one of the Lost Boys because I haven‘t seemed to age that much since she passed. Which one I wonder? Perhaps Tootles. Tootles was the most humble of the Lost Boys. I accept my lot and I’m much sweeter for it.
Since she left for Neverland I have left Neverland. I guess you could say for the last ten years I’ve been trying to get back there. To that eternal state of being. There was no sense of time when my mother was around and even though I know time does not exist, my mothers death is a past event, therefore that imprint evokes a sense of time. Not good for a Lost Boy. One of the differences between me and a Lost Boy, other than the obvious, is that in the story they get Wendy to pretend to be their mother. Wendy Darling was my mother.
Love you darling.
Created: Mar 13, 2010Document Media