Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver

Thank you, Nolcha Fox, for publishing this poem from Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir!

As much as I knew about my mother, she was also a mystery to me. I wish I knew more about her life routines. Although I knew the highs and lows, I never asked enough questions about her friends, schooling, hobbies, and other things. What was it like to grow up in the 30s and 40s? I knew that she had to teach herself how to cook once she got married because her mother only allowed her to make the salads. Her mother never really bonded with Mom, and I wrote poems about the mother-related trauma Mom experienced with Grandmother Lilian.

Sometimes I wish I could see her life pass before my eyes. Maybe if we had lived closer to her parents, we would have heard more stories about how Mom grew from a baby into a fine woman. This poem is about the mysteries that can’t be known at this point. Don’t we all take our day-to-day existences for granted?

The link to the poem is below. Thank you for reading!

Image of Barbara Leonhard’s mother, Barbara Montgomery Harris Woman, how you portray your complex essence and ambiguity. You are a study of light …

“Woman” by Barbara Leonhard