Poem: Afterlife

Today's prompt: Write a letter poem to someone you don’t know yet.

Afterlife

Unless there is an afterlife (and I certainly hope there is)
I don’t expect we’ll meet
Even though I’ve spent the last fifteen years of my life
Getting to know you

Searching for clues, I am a detective
Finding them in photographs and stories
Using them to piece together the real you,
The mother, the sinner, the saint

In black and white there’s
The little girl dressed in a ruffled petticoat
Baby doll clutched tightly to her chest
Standing alone in front of a big white house

There’s the photo taken on your wedding day
Clasping rosary beads
Looking as prim and proper as a school marm
Even though you’re only sixteen

What about the snapshot of the young mother
Sitting on a bench with three small boys
And a space on the end for one more
Me

At a wedding not so long ago,
Your former drinking buddy told me,
“Oh your mother was a wild one alright.
But mosta you kids belong to Ernie”

Ray said you moved so many times he lost count
Richard said you did your best, but
Standing at your grave, two generations of boys
Argued about who you were.

Ron said you had changed. Ernie said he doubted it
Bill, who at two, had been dangled out the window
By an angry boyfriend said he wished
He too had been adopted—we were the lucky ones.

I heard you were sick, lonely, and bitter when you died
The boys didn’t love you like they should have
And I felt sad about the choices you made
Giving all the girls away, and I forgive you every day