For almost half my life I lived by her rules...her advice, and her guiding hoof. She was my only friend, the only pony to care about me, and the only pony she would take risks for...me. Her only child, and her only friend. Me, the only pony to care about her, and the only pony to stand along side her, just as she stood along side me. I asked her why father couldn't help...but she never spoke of him. It wasn't until I was older that I learned that he died before I even born.
Now here I am walking in the rain under the gloomy cast of clouds and wind. I haven't seen mother in so long; I knew at some point I'd have to come back...after what I did. I always imagined the circumstances would be the farthest thing from this. I imagined walking up the steps leading to the front porch at our old home in Ponyville, walking into my mother's home with the smell of fresh bread being baked, and a smile on her face and tears of joy running down her cheeks...at least, that's what I would've hoped for.
I passed stone after stone, looking for the right one. Flowers were splayed out among the fields of carved stones here and there, and the autumn leaves begun to fall, and float in the breeze that coursed through my mane. Finally, I reached the stone that I was looking for that had my mother's name chiseled on the front, with her first and last name, as well as her year of birth, and death. My mother's gravestone.
She passed away some four or five months ago...I received a letter notifying me of her passing, which included the date of a funeral that I never showed up to. I never replied to the letter...I only sobbed and weeped for hours, and didn't come out of my house for days. It was hunger and thirst that drove me out to get items to meet my needs. Other then that...I never came out of my house.
"Hello mom." I finally spoke aloud, gently placing the bouquet of flowers in front of the stone. "I'm, uh...a little late. Five months to be exact." My voice was already beginning to tremble. "I brought you some flowers. You're favorite, red and pink hibiscus." I sat down taking a deep breath. I didn't speak for a long while...the only sound i could hear was my heavy nervous breathing, and the hiss of rain.
"Oh mom...I...I'm so, so sorry." I dug the words from the deepest crater within me as my eyes begun to tear up. "What have I become...I know you're in a better place now, and I know you're with dad again...but I feel nothing but guilt and shame. How could you're own son be five months late to your funeral...my mom's funeral." I held my head as I collapsed to the ground sobbing uncontrollably.
"You were my everything and I left without saying goodbye...You did so much for me and I gave almost nothing in return." The faint memories begun to come to me...
I sat at the table waiting for my meal. I was a young impatient foal, always looking for the next item on the list. I danced around blabbering and singing to myself as my mother carefully placed a bowl of hot soup before me. I gazed at it, confused...i had never seen soup before.
"M...Mom, why is my food drowning?" I asked curiously.
"It's soup dear. It's very healthy and will make you feel better." My mom put a glass of cold water on the table. I had been sick for the past couple days with a dreadful cold, sneezing and coughing my lungs out from inside me. "Be careful though, it's very hot." She warned me assertively. I wasn't afraid I wouldn't like soup...I always trusted food as long as it came from my mom's kitchen. She was the best cook I knew. Everything she put on my plate was always so delicious. She could make even the most gross looking things become rich and flavorful.
"Why don't I help you?" She said as she sat down next to me, and took the spoon in her mouth, dipping it into the broth and bringing it up to me. I didn't hesitate to put the spoon in my mouth. The searing hot broth burned my mouth immediately. I could feel my cheeks blush as I swallowed. At that moment, I couldn't care how hot it was...it was delicious. "You like it?"
"Mhm." Was all I could say. She continued to feed me my soup until I finished it all. I smiled with joy as she wiped the broth from my muzzle, and carried me on her back to bed.
"It's getting late...a sick pony needs their rest."
"Okay Mom." I replied as I yawned. Mother's advice seemed to never fail. And so she gently put me in my bed, and put the covers over me. As she made sure i was comfortable, she felt my forehead. "You're fever is already going down." She said. "Sweet dreams my little angel." I felt her lips peck my forehead. The lights flickered off as she walked out of my room. "Mommy will always be here." Was all I heard before I drifted into a deep sleep.
I sat on the front porch with a tear soaked face, clenching my foreleg and grunting from the pain. "Mom!" I yelled again. She finally answered my call and came out the front door.
"What happened?" She asked immediately, wiping the tears from my face.
"I fell off my scooter." I replied, still clenching my foreleg.
"Let me see dear." She ordered. I removed my hoof, and presented my wound. From my point of view, it's as if I got shot, but mother knew it was nothing serious, just a scratch from falling. "I'll get you all fixed up." She said. Inside, she grabbed some peroxide and cotton balls, and lightly dipped the cotton balls in the liquid. Once a little was soaked in, she brought it to my foreleg and placed it on my scratch. It immediately stung like nothing I had ever felt before, making me instinctively yank my leg away.
"I know it hurts, but it's for the better. It'll get better much quicker if you let me clean it." She explained as best she could for me to understand." I nodded once and gave her my leg again. And again, the stinging resumed as she placed the ball on my scratch. It burned for another couple seconds until it went away all together. I felt her put a band-aid on it as she looked at me.
"Thanks Mom." I said. I hugged her as I went back outside.
Mother barged into my room with force, making me jump from my bed. I stared at her with drowsy eyes. She held a paper in her mouth, and fire in her eyes. She dropped the paper in front of me and begun to speak.
"Do you know what this is young man?" She asked as I examined the paper. It was a report card from school.
"It's my report card." My voice was a little shaky.
"What the hell is this to you? You've been skipping school again haven't you? What have I told you damn it!?" She raised her voice. I knew I was in deep shit now. "Until you can get your act together, you're grounded. Do I make myself clear?" She stared intensely at my eyes. I nodded. She turned away from me, and made her way to the corner of my room where my guitar sat up.
"Wait, no Mom please, not that. Take anything but that." I begged.
"If this is what's gonna make you get your head out of your plot, then I have no choice." She picked it up and carried it out of my room. As she left my field of view, I too begun to feel the anger boil.
"What makes you think you can just take my stuff?" I shouted. "I bought that with my money Mom."
"You mean the money you were given for your birthday? I am your mother young man, I will take what I please as long as you keep that attitude."
"You've taken away everything already! What's next, my bed?"
"If it gets you to get off your ass and start getting better grades. At this rate you'll never graduate." My mom reappeared in my doorway.
"So? I can't just live with you? I mean you already cook and clean for me so what's the big deal?" My mom's eyes went wide. Her hoof stepped towards me.
"You ungrateful little-" Her hoof suddenly swept across my cheek. It burned as my head swung around, and I lost my balance for a moment. She knocked the words out of me before I could say any more.
"W-Why did you-
"Be quiet." She marched out of my room and slammed the door. "Have some time to come up with an apology." She said from the other side of the door. The sun set slowly as I sat in my bed speechless. I couldn't think...nor could I act. I just sat there.
"Hey pop, let me hit." I spoke aloud as I sat in a circle with three other friends. He passed his bong to me and laid back in the bean bag chair, giving the ceiling an intense stare. I put my lips around the rim and held my lighter to the bowl. As soon as the lighter caught a spark, the door slammed open. I looked up...my mother.
"I'm only going to say this once." Her voice was stern, low, and cold. "Get out."
My friend immediately took his bong and ran out with my other friends, leaving me at the mercy of my mother. I expected nothing but beatings. I closed my eyes and braced...a couple seconds passed, and nothing hit me. It wasn't until I heard sobbing and sniffling that I opened my eyes. My mom's cheeks blushed red as tears soaked her muzzle.
"What am I going to do?" She asked.
I knew why she was crying...I had never felt more guilty in my life, then at that moment. I stood up and reached out for a hug to try and comfort her. She held me tighter than she ever had before, whispering "my baby boy" silently to herself as she swayed back and forth.
"Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird." She sang.
"I...I'm sorry."
"What happened to you?" She asked. I wanted to answer, but I couldn't find the words to give her one. "Every time I look at you I still see my baby boy, so sweet and innocent; with wonders and dreams...how did my baby boy grow up to be this?"
I started to weep as well...a grown stallion living with his mother, doing nothing but wasting his time with his friends smoking weed and waking up with a hangover. She should be upset...and I should be ashamed.
~~
The next morning, around 6am, I got up and grabbed a suitcase full of my clothes that I had packed the same night. I placed it at the front door, and went to check on my mom. She was wrapped in her covers, sleeping her dreams away. I gazed upon her...my mother. As the colors of dawn took to the sky, I gave my mom a peck on the forehead. She shifted slightly as I walked out of her room, and made why for the front door. I've left home many times to go out, see friends, go on dates, and hang out...but closing the front door behind me was by far the hardest time I ever had to do it.
But I had to do it...
And that was it...my last memory of mom. Sleeping peacefully in her bed. It's like she never really awoke from that sleep...and I'm still standing beside her bed...only this time, I can't see her face, nor can I kiss her forehead. The most I can do is stare at her grave while my falling tears blend with the rain.
Thunder boomed and echoed through the clouds. To some, it was a destructive sound...but to me it was as if it were trying to speak to me. Thunder was harmless...nothing more than a noise. A harmless noise that came from lightning; beautiful, elegant, yet destructive lightning. As the thunder echoed...I sung to myself aloud as the rain continued to fall.
"Hush little baby don't say a word, momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird don't sing, momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring..." as tears ran down.
I stood up, and looked at the gravestone one last time...
"I'll be back mom...I promise." I turned to leave. "Goodbye." I spoke the word I had owed her for years...somehow I know she heard it from wherever she is now.
