Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Scraps (NaPoWriMo Day 2)



Jeez, I can’t believe you’re so short!
You say,
As you press your nose to my forehead,
Your hands to my shoulders,
And look down at me.
I feign annoyance,
But press closer, and hope for more.
Starved as I am
For your touch—
I scramble for any scrap of attention
And am not above resorting to cheap tricks to get it,
Like buying you red velvet cupcakes from Fred Meyer
Just to have you put your arm around me and say,
Oh my God, you’re the best mom ever.

It’s pathetic, I know, but you need to understand
What you did for me:
Your birth allowed me to renew
My mommy card for a little longer--
To be assured of kisses and finger paintings
Well into my thirties—
And I am grateful.
As I watch you
Struggle to shrug me off
I know I need to remember
That none of this is your fault.
My inability to untangle
Your growing up
With the winding down
Of my motherhood
Is not your problem.
So I promise to try and suck it up
And forgive you
For no longer being
The boy who runs towards my touch,
And hugs me in front of his friends,
And whispers to me,
Mom even when I am old and married
I promise to still live with you
On weekends so we can hang out.

2 comments:

  1. Awww! Just beautiful. I know the feeling, sister. And if I were you, I'd hold him to his promise. By far the best line of the poem "My inability to untangle
    Your growing up
    With the winding down
    Of my motherhood
    Is not your problem."

    I am in the throes of this disentangling. It feels like amputation--pain, loss, ghost limbs, the lot!

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  2. Nice natural flow... and just darn cute...
    Well done.

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