Archive for July, 2010
enough
I will not forget.
I cannot pretend.
This has been the break and bend,
This has been the break and mend,
This has been the break and end
Of me
As I know me,
As I knew me.
Lost, lost, lost
And gone forever,
Is it ok to call this “never”
As I watch the others,
The others go?
Not mothers, no, but others,
Go in and out
In and out
In and out
All day without
A care,
Light as air
As I stare.
Do I romanticize,
Fantasize,
Analyze,
Demonize?
Their eyes
Behind perfect sunglassed shades
Coifed hair
Clean shirts
Important deals being made
While I,
While I,
While I
In smeared and smattered smock
Do slouch and count the Os
Mosaic on the floorboard
And O, how I used to be so clean
A sight to be seen,
Supreme,
The Queen of my Universe
So I thought
Controlled,
In ivory tower,
On pause for hours,
Walking with the flowers,
A superpower
Until,
Until,
Until
Indelible line, pink pale
Nine months later, a wail,
A battle to the finish,
But we fought together, no limits
And that was the last time
I got my way
The day I got you
And all that comes with who
You were born to be,
A soul like me
STRONG
FIGHTER
PASSION
FLYER
Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder
You bring the thunder
And lighten your momma’s heart
When the pain of old desires comes sharp.
You breathe,
I breathe,
You breathe,
You smile in your sleep,
You laugh and weep,
Your boldness runs deep
Already you keep
A place in your heart for the pain
And the rain
And the shame
Of a world that needs and bleeds
For one like you,
One like you,
One like you,
Who holds his momma’s hand
When she can’t stand
Because she can’t stand,
She can’t stand,
She won’t stand
Alone
Anymore.
So together we weather
The surges of grace
That come our way
As grace, these days,
Floods us in tempest strong.
I know it won’t be long -
I’ll blink,
I’ll blink,
I’ll blink,
These days be gone
And I’ll wish them back,
The smock
The pain
The tears
Endless drain
Of shame and tasks
And more to do than
Ability or facility
And brevity,
O, brevity,
I know these days are brevity
But pain be what pain be:
TEACHER,
WAKER-UPPER,
FAITHFUL LOVER.
And you are enough, my friend,
My son,
My sun,
A treasure,
A pleasure,
A measureless glory,
You are enough.
And I am enough
In fallen state,
In guilt and hate,
A daughter still,
A daughter still
I am enough.
I cannot pretend.
I may not mend.
But he is here.
No fear.
No fear.
No fear.
He is here.
[For mommas everywhere who bleed love.]
No Commentsi remember
I remember the light -
the way it slipped through the slats in the
vertical blinds as we began the final leg of our
journey together.
I remember you -
the way you felt when your
daddy laid you on my chest,
soft and slimy and
perfect.
I remember the midwife -
the way she told me how
beautiful you were and how
perfect your butt was and that I should
kiss it…so I did!
I remember everything about the night before -
the way my water broke at one,
the ride to the hospital at two,
three contractions at the admissions desk,
the way your daddy held me up through
every pressure wave,
the water pouring over me,
going to the furthest threshold of pain without any barrier of relief,
the way you turned after all our hard work.
And I remember the moment -
too sacred to tell.
I remember the light -
the light of your life and soul
so new and fresh,
the light of you in a world wanting for brightness.
Happy Birthday, sweet Jude. I will always remember your story and love your life.
No Commentsas is interview
I laughed as Jude cuddled up close to me. It was his new way of letting me know he was making the poo-poo. As his poops become more solid, he is becoming more freaked out by the whole “number two” thing. So he cuddles.
I looked at the clock. I had time, or a few minutes anyway. “Alright,” I said, “let’s go change that diaper, let’s go change that diaper….” I sang our made-up diaper song as we cha-cha’ed to his room and proceeded to swap out the hot mess. I got him all cleaned up in time to prep a little for my podcast interview.
But as we sat on the floor a few minutes later – me with my laptop and Jude with his blocks – it happened. Jude crawled quietly over to me and climbed into my lap, again, wrapping his arms around my neck.
“Aw, buddy, what’s going on?” But I already knew. More poop. Big time poop.
I sprang into action with just a few minutes to spare before I’d be chatting with Josh Case of the Nick and Josh Podcast. But not only was this the messier of the two diapers, Jude wasn’t even remotely interested in being on his back for another diaper change. He was so opposed, in fact, that he rolled over before I could catch him, dragged his leg through the stinky mass, crab-crawled toward his blocks and laughed.
With about sixty seconds to spare before my interview appointment, I chased Jude down, cleaned him up, put on a fresh diaper, and scrubbed the carpet. Then I did this interview. An interview I’m proud of if for no other reason than that it was born out of a very authentic, very as-is moment. There’s just something about a laughing, cuddling, pooping one-year-old that keeps you real, humbled and completely incapable of posing.
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