The Trails that Mother Gives you, do do something after All

                 As the wisps of spiritual smoke billowed to the ceilings in my wishful thinking, one bore the tire tracks that earlier travels with the mystics imbibed in the shadows of the dusty trails my Mother had traversed, would of left if  my Mother had just come to giving Me the medicine a tad bit earlier.
                 Why do we often find that though the lights were on the whole time, but for some reason or another, the doors were not open to those lives,and those lives, laughingly, were not at home.  Shortly, as timelines go, or the strings to infinity dangled from my own ceilings, I was confronted with some of the biblical scribes that my Mother had left dangling amid the protocols of the meridians on life's highways and byways, leaving them instead to gather on their own, for most people, pervasive and unused moss laden paths.
                 Rather, as I was to find out, after her passing, that at 17 or 18, she was to take a fate filled voyage thru the rebirths of her multiple selves. She first took a train ride from Baltimore, Maryland, across Purple Mountains Majesties and Amber Waves of Grain, until she found the Pacific Ocean beckoning her to continue her quest. 
                 From here, she found herself, as part of the freight,on a ship bound for Japan to initiate her survival modes with her new found Spouse.  My Father, it seems, had not broken her Dreams, and she unlike Jack and Jill, would not fall down that slippery hill.
                        When, upon arrival, she found that my Father had been reassigned and she would have to talk a Five Star General into letting her go where no Woman had gone before, and was promptly shipped to China, where her and my Father would spend time, like his earlier assignment in Post World War II Japan, doing reparations and imbibing the cultural adaptations necessary for reconciliation purposes.
                 When those lines of communications had been telegraphed across the countrysides of China, and my Father was informed his next orders were to return to the shores of Japan to accomplish the same overtures, my Mother was told by a Four Star General she had to return Stateside, since no spouses of service members were allowed in their duty stations.  To the credit of the multitasking High Priestess herself, my Mother soon had the Five Star General overruling the Four Star General.
                  So the trails are infinite that my Mother left me to follow in her footsteps, and though I often wonder where my paths would have led me if I had known these parables earlier, I do feel as if the Pills that Mother gives you, somehow, unlike Grace Slick from Jefferson Airplane once cooed, do create something after all, even if they are given posthumously, when in silence and awe, everyone, with the lights on, was at Home.