"Here today, gone tomorrow" (Poetic Prose)

“Here today, gone tomorrow”
(Poetic prose, on real life)


“Here today, gone tomorrow,” my mother used to say, in her simple natural way—and in-between, few of us are remembered. Movie stars, I think they think they’ll be remembered until kingdom comes, like presidents of nations, and generals of armies, so many alike, but they are akin to old books badly written, put on shelves, like old songs, long forgotten, not much else. I think my mother took a pick—between this and that, said “…what do I really want, wish,” and she chose life to live, and simple things, a little money, and her two children, her brother and sisters, and a few friends, and that was it, it was enough; at the end, at eighty-three, she said to me, “I never expected to live this long.”
It was all for Jesus now, she done her best, with what she had, it appeared to me, at the time, He, Jesus gave her a moment to prepare, recall, and then, then she said, “I’m ready,” and she left.
I think earth bored her some, perhaps me and my brother too, we were all caught up with our own lives, adventures, troubles and things to do. And so she left, just like that, as simple as she came, like she meant, and let me paraphrase: here one day, and gone the next—; so simple and fast it all seems now, as if it was planned: I think we’re all just a little less than a vapor fading in the wind: and the best we can say, at the end is: we came, we saw and then left.

#2473 8-29-2008 (on the roof top, in Lima, Peru)