This is a poem I wrote about a year ago. I changed several things in it and wanted to share it again this week before Christmas. I am going to share three poems this week, three very personal poems, one for each of my kids. This one is for my oldest.
.
… because you’re going to dig your toes in one day,
You’re going to dig them in deep at the edge of the shore,
you’re going to feel the shift under your feet and you’re going to lose your balance and you’re going to steady yourself.
I know because I stood there too, I stood there and felt the waves try to pull me away as I steadied myself against the constant shifting of the sand,
… but this is not about me and where I stood, this is not about the waves that knocked me around. This is about the voice of that boy whispering, “I love you”, in the dark of the night and this is about the test that kept you up worrying and this is about your friend who stopped talking to you when she saw the way you looked at her boyfriend and this is about all the sleepless nights you have yet experienced — this is about you, my precious baby.
… because your phone will run out of battery one night,
the night you need it the most,
the night you pick it up to call me.
I’ll be waiting on the other end but my phone will never ring. I’ll look at the silence trickling off of it and I’ll wonder… I’ll get in my car because I’ll know where you are because we talk like that and you’ll see me driving up and you’ll scream at me in front of your friends but when you get in the car your screams will turn to tears of relief because I could hear you through the unused phone and then you’ll switch the radio in mid-cry as you gasp for more air to let it all out and The Maine will be on and we’ll start singing along and when we get home I’ll hear you skyping with your friends about how your “old” mom listens to The Maine and The Decemberists and all of your music and your friends will say you have a great mom and you’ll smile because you don’t see me in the hallway,
… but this isn’t about me. This isn’t about the unanswered calls I made and the tears of anger I cried. This is about you. This is about you balancing on that edge,
… because your friends will push you to think,
your friends will dare you to move and not all of them will want you to move in the right direction, not all of them will push you to see yourself the way they do. You will have to hear them yourself, my precious baby. You will have to make those choices yourself.
They will compel you to lie and laugh and run and skip and yell and curse and they will watch you stand on that edge… looking, deciding.
They will love you and they will hate you and they will leave you and they will return to you.
They will throw life at you and hope you’re ready because there are no do-over’s.
Your friends will be your world when you think I’m not around.
The waves will continue to pounce on you as you sink your toes in and you’ll reach your hand up to grasp hold of mine and you don’t see me… but I’m there.
You’ll say, “everything is fine”, but I’ll know it’s not.
You’ll say, “leave me alone”, when I know you need me to sit.
You’ll scream at me and curse me and wish for me to leave…
But I’ll know.
I’ll know the sand is shifting so fast you’re struggling to stay above the waves.
But today, today my precious baby.
I hold you and you let me and I see the future because it’s already my past and I’ll beg you to hear me,
I’ll beg you to listen to me because I made those mistakes already and I walked that road already and I lost all my inhibitions around that bonfire and I danced naked in the middle of that house and I pulled my hand back the first time it was slapped and I stood where the waves break the hardest and I screamed to be heard… already.
I’ll yell for you to “keep digging your toes in”!
This time, you’ll listen. You’ll stop… and you’ll listen.
This time, you’ll say, “my mother told me about the shifting sand”. And you’ll look down at your phone and it’s fully charged but you don’t need to use it, you don’t need to call for me. And I’ll be looking at my phone too but it won’t ring.
And I’ll smile.
And I’ll stretch out my fingers as far as I can but I’ll never be able to grasp on…







powerful, smiles,
Thanks for sharing.
Thank you.
if my comment is misspelled, it’s the tears’ fault. oh my friend, such gorgeous, exquisite truth. it resonates deeply, down to my bones – especially the part about showing up even though her phone is out of juice. that will happen. tuned-in love doesn’t need a phone.
Oh Jeanne… thank you so much for this, you spread your love and kindness so beautifully.
gripping! what a powerful display of emotions just pouring from the page. pain in the words …felt. nice work!!!
http://magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com/2011/12/18/keys-ethree/
Thank you Kellie, I’m humbled by the response.
This is amazing, you are so talented. Don’t ever stop writing.
Oh wow! I’m so excited by this, thank you so much!
Beautiful, Becky!
http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/12/18/this-christmas/
Thank you Charles.
what wonderful and wise words for your daughter becky – she can indeed be happy to have a mom like you
Thank you Claudia… that really means a lot to me.
Wonderful write. Like how you came full circle there and how she was learn all you have to teach and no longer need to call.
Thank you! This was a great way to start my day.
If everything we knew was simply passed on . . . . that wouldn’t really be any fun.
I love the way you write — it often has me holding my breath rushing to the end, trying to figure out if it is going to end ok. But this story doesn’t have an ending, but I love how it still saying that it will basically be ok . . . .
Thank you! Every story has a different ending (or two), depending on the choices we make.
Thank you for these kind words.
I remember this. and it’s still beautiful and wise and filled with a mother’s love.
xoxo
Thank you Kellie. I changed some of the metaphors from trains to the shifting sand, it seemed more where I am now as a parent and person.
Love your “let’s talk… it’s cheaper than therapy”
great post! I really enjoyed it and loved the last sentence:)
Thank you so much, I wanted it to have a “not an end” ending feel.
amazing one….
Thank you so much for reading.
powerful emotions, evocative expression, good one
Thank you very much for reading and commenting.
Loved the expressions and the flow of emotions …keep it up
Cheers
Thank you! Hopefully I will… and you too!
friends do have huge impacts on us.
life only becomes better when we are flexible enough to rethink, redo, and revise our actions.
enjoyed the read.
you cool girl.
Thank you! Yay, I’m a cool girl!
Wow, the emotion jumps right off the page to bite you!! Marvelous job Becky! Blessings and Merry Christmas, Terri
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the eloquence of your words does not cover up the powerful emotions behind them ~ beautiful, b! what every mother wishes they could say to their daughter. ♥ i love you! happy holidays!
Thank you Dani.
Beautiful heart in this piece. Your children are lucky to have you as a mother.
Merry Christmas!
Mark
Thank you so much for saying this, I appreciate it so much.
Thoroughly enjoyed reading that!
Thank you! That piece has such a hold on me, and my daughter.
very powerful lines.
keep it coming.
Thank you!
This is so beautiful and I think it’s also the story of every mother and her firstborn son. I only have one and he’ll be 29 soon and he lives on his own, but now when he needs to talk, he’ll call and say, “Mom, can you make me those wonderful sunny side up eggs you make? I’m on my way over.” I know he won’t tell me what the problem is then, but over a couple of eggs and toast, as I sit and listen he finally tells me what’s going on and all I do is listen. I’ve been mom all his life, but right now I’m his sounding board. We are both so very, very blessed.
May your Christmas by blessed.
Elizena R. Arellano from: http://elizena-lovingmycreator.blogspot.com/
Thank you for sharing that story! Thank you!
[...] about one of my children. This one is about my youngest. If you haven’t had a chance to read, “this is about you”, about my oldest, and, “my man”, about my son, then please take a few minutes and read [...]