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Saturdays Whaffles

Today I held my Mother's hands as we sat waiting to go to the Diner! She sits in front of me, small and trembling from age and gravitational fatigue. I sit on the edge of her walker leaning in, myself trembling from wanting to pull her back to another time, wanting to rewrite our history, wanting it to be different, to be better. At 92 she is weak,confused, afraid of the night. I suddenly begin to sob as I attempt to speak, unexpected and uncontrollable. I hear her say through the thunder of my tears "don't cry Victor" but that's not possible, not now, not ever again. The weight of time is upon us and not in our favor.
There's so much I want to say to her! The child who needs to be comforted. "Don't cry Victor" was said only the way a Mother's love can say it to her child. The unsaid is "The wound will heal and everything will be all right" you'll see! The pain of this moment, the anguish of losing her, all the sorrow I've caused her throughout her life, as my tears washed down onto her hands she manages to say "give me a kiss" breaking the moment enough for the Mother to kiss the child's wound!
I look up from her shaking hands into her clouded eyes and for a second we're suspended outside reality and we both feel comforted and safe, I kiss her and put my cheek gently against hers and silence connects everything that has ever been throughout all time in an instant too quick to be measured bringing me back to the reality at hand. Waffles and a Strawberry Sunday at the Diner.