Two years ago
I celebrated the
last Mother's Day
with you

and I worried
and worried
over what gift
to give you

(because really
you never think about
what you're supposed
to give someone as their
last Mother's Day gift
until that moment arrives)

and I gave you a Jade plant
which seemed appropriate
but as inadequate as any other
expression of my love
for you

and I think I focused on
the silly things
like the last gifts
and the last words
and just pushing through
as if the end was a finish line
we would all reach together.

But when you reached
that finish line
alone,

I finally realized that I had worried
so much about the trivial
that I had forgotten to focus on
what I was least prepared for

— life without you.

The jade plant still remains,
your love still remains,
your memory is as engraved in my memory
as the deepest treasure of my existence

But this Mother's Day,
I remember that day two years ago
when the greatest gift I gave you was
the gift of letting go

and the greatest gift you gave me
was a love so great
that I could let go of you
and still hold onto it
forever.