we would sit in the living room
my mom in her chair
me on the couch

watching the news reports on this blizzard

"oh my god, look at that" she would have said as the news crews showed different shots all around the city

"listen to that wind!" she'd say

"maybe you should get a couple flashlights ready--just in case"

"go check the back door. you might have to get out there and shovel again."

"i hope the roof holds up"

"i hope that tree doesn't fall. i don't know what we'd do if that tree fell."

then, later,

"i'm gonna go in my room and turn on the radio for the news. i want to hear what's going on."

i'd feel safe with her here with me
i'd feel strong--my need to protect her

she'd tell me about a snowstorm when she was younger
we'd talk about a snowstorm when i was younger

she'd tell me to call my daughter and have her get some candles or flashlights ready--just in case. "and tell her, whatever she does--don't go out of the house!"

my mom--
how i wish she were here
to talk about this with me
to be wowed with me over it
to be the calm, practical voice
my mom--
i miss her company so much ...

i miss her so much tonight
i feel so alone in this historical snowstorm
i miss her so much.