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Boy, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. My grandson arrived nine days after his due date, and we are thrilled to have him earth-side. Originally I had something else in mind for this post, but because of a completely out-of-control schedule, I had to pivot today. I started this poem back in May after I finished my poetry class with
. Even though I don’t feel worthy of being called a poet, I’ll be brave today and share my attempt. Thanks for reading :)Ode to Imperfect Mothers
You always loved babies the most
And they loved you right back
Easily,
Unconditionally.
They didn’t know it wouldn’t last.
You were a sight to behold
Your whisper melted into
a hum,
the softest lullaby.
I did not recognize that stranger.
I was old enough to grasp
You were out of your element
When
For just a little while
You gave me a sister
Borrowed from someplace worse.
I was seven,
She was six.
What she needed was a soft place to land
Away from the beatings,
The tearing of hair from its roots,
The scald of boiling water,
And the push down the stairs.
What kind of mother does this to a child?
You sent her back, though
You had to.
You did your best,
which was better than terrible.
I hid myself during your experiment of caring.
I liked my island
where you were too busy to find me.
I was safe
For a little while.
But you plucked me up again
A closed bud in a secret garden
Striking me with your stare and demands
That you were a good mother.
With cracked knuckles, trailing fumes of lye
Buying me everything I needed
Especially
The education you never had.
And I should be
Have to be
Must be
Grateful.
That was your undoing
Leaving me fallow to seek wisdom
And warmth
somewhere else.
The prisoner found the sage’s key
And the world opened up to the moon
To be
Something less cruel.
I felt my way by slivers of light
Seeking but not seeing
The moonbeams too dim,
Illuminating only the fragments.
In the end
It didn’t matter.
Not at all.
Because
He was destined to be
The enemy of my enemy
Willing to join me in
Birthing a family of my own
Igniting a joy and
Revealing the rays of the sun.
Celestial beings flowed out of me
Becoming love in flesh form.
Unconditionally.
I was grateful for all three
Guiding me from lunar to solar
Igniting an inferno
That even my broken eyes could see
And that has never stopped burning.
Even with too many mistakes
I’m still learning
How to love them perfectly.
Thank you for sharing this. So raw. So much truth.
“Even with too many mistakes
I’m still learning
How to love them perfectly.”
This rings so true. Thank you for being brave enough to show us your deepest selves here. And shine!
Amazing Ilona, wow!! Great work there - baring your soul it seems. Congratulations on the joy of being a grandmother