My Mother in the New Fade, Part 3

to hear my mother tell it,
her sisters, both of whom were older,
didn't really like her

they crowded her when they
shared a bed and otherwise
ignored her until later years
when there were no more excuses

her two brothers were younger,
and she got along better with them;
after all, her favorite, who was like
her best friend, became my godfather,
and my family's favorite besides

it's always odd to think of the family
of your mother (or your father)
unless you grow up right next to them
but in the New Fade that's probably
less likely than ever before

it's my mother's family that I know best,
especially her father, whom we visited
frequently during the decade where
my life and his overlapped

we also shared the violin
and i think that was my mother's doing
and i'm not mad about that

he used to make them,
and i think he and she were more proud
of that than his barbering days,
or the years in the Woonsocket mills

he also spoke only French
and that made him just as peculiar
to me as his skinny mustache,
trademarks he shared with the devotion
to his favorite rocking chair
that sat next to the entrance
to a home that was so familiar to me,
with its sloping driveway and backyard path
to a park, and what used to be a skating rink
that defined a great deal of my mother's
early life

(those were the days when rollerskating
was still socially relevant, and not just
a place to throw kids and have them listen
to pop music for a few hours)