I Know I

It’s gray and soft and seemingly gentle, wafting into my world on the fringe of time.

It appears harmless, and causes no great stir in my consciousness.

There is no clatter when it descends. Rather the very silence should be a warning for me that it is ominous.

Still I am not yet alert to the danger.

Possibly because it is a relatively new development in my life. But then I think back in time and realize it has merely been submerged, now for decades.

It first appeared early in life, but at a time when I had not yet tasted the ambrosia of independence. Perhaps that is why it disappeared totally for so many decades.

I remember its first appearance quite distinctly and quietly informing my Mother that no longer would I attend school. Beyond that, no longer would I exit our home.. She listened while she continued ironing, not saying a word. I carefully explained that no longer would it be possible for me to emerge from the comfort and security of our overcrowded tenement where I was safe. I was unable to leave home so there I would remain, and I knew she would understand.

The iron was put down, unplugged, and ever so gently Mom handed me my coat and walked me to the wooden door leading to the vestibule. She handed me my schoolbag and closed and locked the door behind me. My fears were dismissed by her common sense, and I had no choice. I went to school and the subject never was discussed again. Eventually I even attended college via a subway, without the gray cloud returning.

Recently, I vaguely sensed its presence when the words “I don’t think,” became more apparent in my vocabulary. Still I didn’t realize they were slowly and assiduously eliminating, “Of course, I can,” from any frequency.

It has taken me several months now to become acutely aware of the danger they impose on my lifestyle. Without warning independence and choices are covered with indecision and negativity.

Mom is no longer ironing in the kitchen, and I have no one but myself to inject the wisdom she taught me so long ago. And that is when I remember her example.

Of course, this amazing woman had fears. Fears I have never known; the uncertainty of an economic depression; the constant need to care for an ailing Patriarch and his complicated household. The need to balance two roles; that of loving wife and Mother, and loyal daughter. Yet if she confronted her fears and worries, she kept the emphasis on “Of course, I can,”

And despite the vagaries of age, I certainly can do the same. Suddenly the wind wafts the gray clouds away, and the memories of her strength emerge wrapped in the brilliant sunlight.

And I know I can.