I can’t give my mom a hug today,
But last year we were in Chicago
Where we shopped
And saw a symphony
And ate ice cream, laughing, before bed
I can’t give my mom a hug today,
But I still have her birthday gift
On the side table
Waiting for when I see her
Or brave the post office
(I no longer get out much)
I can’t give my mom a hug today,
Nor can I eat her homemade bread
Better, my dad, says (or equal to)
MacReady’s, and that’s saying something
Someday I’ll try it myself
I can’t give my mom a hug today,
And I know I’m not alone
In aching to reach out, in wanting to be home
Because if the world had a mother like mine
We’d all have Spider-Man masks
To protect one another
Like the one I received from her today
I can’t give my mom a hug today,
But I can remember all the times
I was safe in her arms
It’s the only place where all I have to be
Is a daughter
And that’s enough
I can’t give my mom a hug just yet,
But I can tell her my clarity only crystallizes
Despite the threat of snow in May
And the obstacles I haven’t figured out how to move
But they will move
There’s always a way
With Love,
Natalie