When I pushed
you open
that cold night
demanding
to be released into the world,
the tearing of your flesh
was but the first pain of letting go.
No one told you
how that opening
wide of motherhood
would empty you out
and fill you
all at once.
Maybe you had imagined
cries in the dark at midnight
toy explosions
sibling wars
and the endless thankless art
of making a home,
But you didn’t know
how the letting go
would begin first with
yourself.
The pouring out was
effortless some days,
kisses lavished, songs sung,
joy thick as the laughter
that embraced you,
a child’s bright smile
easy reward
for invisibility.
Other days
I sucked it from you,
heedless of weariness,
unaware of your soul
that extended so far beyond
my small imaginings.
Did you ever long to be
seen?
Did you wonder when I
would really
know you?
Still
you stepped cheerfully
into the humble role
I cast for you,
and even as
you wove a world around me
hemming me in,
you made holes
to let the light in,
a space to breathe
and dream.
So many things I took
from you,
my child’s heart never knowing
who you really were,
the woman who labored
and loved long beyond
her own strength,
who made herself small
to give me the universe.
Dear One, Our Julie,
ReplyDeleteYour mother is a jewel among women selflessly giving to me in friendship, you to as a mom, to Tom as a wife following his dream to Colorado, Alaska, Texas and back to Colorado. Laying her life down in service to DPCA, her church, her family, her friends, she thought of others first. But, being a mom to you and Scott and Amy and now being a grandma has filled her up with joy. It is a privileged to call her friend!
Love and admiration for your writings and your life emptied out like broken bread and poured out wine, Miss Becky