My Daughters and Sons

graduation

I’ve had many..many.. Daughters and Sons

I packed their lunches with their favorite foods, a blessed fruit, and a note “No Matter What, You are Great! You will do your best because you are the best!, I love You, signed Mommy and (smiley face)

I zipped their coats and helped them with their backpacks..Tied the laces of their shoes so they wouldn’t trip. I pinched their cheeks and hugged them tight.

I’ve had many..many.. Daughters and Sons

I watched them from the living room window as they crossed the street…”Look both ways!” I called out.. “Okay,.. Now go.”

I sent them on their way to school, and waited impatiently for their arrival home

I’ve had many..many.. Daughters and Sons

Son’s as Mighty as the Midnight’s Moon. Daughters as bright as a Summer’s Sun.

…I cooked and cleaned for..I begged and borrowed for…I rallied and prayed for..

…I helped with math problems, and made grammar corrections, I sat with fat cheeks in school auditoriums and was the first to stand for ovation, yelling the loudest praise..”Yes!!! You go boy!”

I’ve had many..many.. Daughters and Sons

Daughters and Sons that share the same twinkle that highlights my pupil.

Daughters that followed my lead, and Sons that marched in my shadow.

Daughters and Sons, that have made my eye’s dark and sunken from tears and worry… that have lined my forehead and arched my brow from anger and frustration..that have puffed my cheeks and creased my mouth from smiles and laughter.

I’ve had many..many.. Daughters and Sons

…that I sent away…never to return… That I packed away..never to be unpacked.  That are here, no longer.

Daughters and Sons..that are now gone… only to stand before me as Women and Men.

 

 

(It takes a village to raise a child..We are all Parents.)


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My Mommy’s Birthday Song

moms song

It seems almost ridiculous for me to buy a birthday card for you.  Two main; pertinent reasons why.   First, I’m a writer.  Second; and the most important, there is no card, or letter, or monument  created by anyone other than myself, that would say or express half of what I want and need to say…to you.

As long as I can remember, I have watched you.  I have admired you.  I have questioned you and some of the decisions that you made.  I have loved and even disliked you (at times).

But, the one resounding and consistent truths..is that YOU have always been Free.  You have never hid your ups and downs.  You have been open about your confusion and uncertainty about direction.  You have loved and disliked me; and told me in very clear voice when you did.

You have been FREE.  Free to prance in your own way.  Free to belt out in uneven pitch YOUR OWN SONG.

Free to dance to whatever music you hear for the day.  Free to choose.  Free to build or destroy.

Free to make your own path and dare anyone tread it without your permission.

Despite the past truths…of those or them…or (him).  He who tried to take all from you.  He who wanted to silent and muffle your song.  Who wanted to pluck your feathers..You never yielded.  YOU always fought.  You always stayed and lingered on your own ground. You always claimed what was rightfully yours.  Never giving up!

Never allowing your soul to be taken.

Never to be defined.  Never to be broken.

Undeniably, Unmistakable, Irrefutable..You.

Your day..is and will always be YOUR DAY.  There is no one like you.  No one that can compare or come close.

However, if by chance or opportunity your attributes could be split..they would be divided between your three daughters:

The Crazy.. The Cool..and The Sexy (what you affectionately call us).

You taught me  that I am a woman.  Not, a mere Woman.  Not a meek Woman.  But a Glorious Reflective woman… who is Free!  Free to do whatever she chooses.  Free to float… and laugh when she sinks.

I’ve always been able to take my hands and press them tightly to my ears..spin in circles and hum..hum..”I don’t care…I don’t care…I don’t care”. At times mimicking your screech..”I don’t care..I don’t care..I don’t care”.

Not listening to what anyone else said I should. Maintaining my own voice and sound.

I SING YOUR SONG  TOO, MOMMY!   “I love YOU!  I love YOU!  I love YOU! and I don’t care..I don’t care..I don’t care.”

 

Happy Birthday Mommy.

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She Runs On..

Dismal Dancing Daffodils, dying in hand. She tightly clutches, hanging downward, drunk in the sunlight.

Dirty canvas whites, and dingy shoe strings, she runs on.. Her ashy dusty knees mirror the playground field. Rubber tire bits hang from her shorts.

She runs on.. emphatically choking them.. she runs on..

Unconscious petals drift in the air.. Her sticky smile gleams bright.

“Mommy look! I brought you flowers.. Look! I got you the best ones.
Now, you won’t have to buy your own!”

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