this summer you can swim like a fish i watch you dive to depths twice your size recall that feeling, that freedom that thrill i watch you ride your bicycle more of a race than a ride, really pedaling as fast as your little legs can take you tearing through the trails behind our house i think about the space between us now a space where there was none for five years, my little shadow at my heels even as i make coffee i just want to be where you are, mom they say having a child is like having your heart walk around outside your body more like my stomach or my guts out there my stomach churning with excitement as my feet pump the pedals of my bike my guts tightening and contracting as i slam on the brakes with all my might my lungs down there in the deep end trying to hold my breath and i wonder if this is the beginning yes, it must be the beginning of the space between us as you – my heart, my lungs, my stomach and my guts – begin to move in all directions all these new ways of moving your body my body our body your body all the while a quiet whisper slow down, caught in my throat there used to be no space between us i mean, zero space between us i just want to be where you are, mom i’m not ready for my heart to walk around in this world without me is a mother ever ready? ever ready to live without her little heartbeat?
tiny socks are everywhere have taken over this house every place i turn underneath every pillow a plate the couch are the tiniest eensy-weensy tiny socks each time i find them i am surprised by their size delighted by their appearance and curious that perhaps this house had never truly been complete without them being here.
Everything that came before you was just a dream.
Or did the dream start when you were born?
If someone had asked me, before I had you
I would have said, ‘I am full. It’s a full life and I am fulfilled.’
I remember those early days in Bangkok writing,
What am I doing here trying to have these new experiences?
I have already had all the experiences. I should just go home.
Ha. I was thirty-three. What did I know.
I hadn’t met your father yet. Or Buddha.
I hadn’t woken alone in my tiny hut surrounded by mist and mountains,
desiring nothing.
Still, these days I catch myself inhaling,
These are the best days of my life,
my chin resting atop your head watching gulls over Professor’s Lake.
These days I catch myself exhaling,
There is no greater moment than this,
as I race alongside you on the path from the park to our home
every evening wondering if I have ever been as full
as I feel in that moment.
I catch myself holding you closer,
as you climb onto my lap to eat dinner.
I catch myself whispering,
Thank you.I will hold on to this moment.
There is a knowing that I feel,
that these years belong to us,
to me and you,
a mother and her son.
Everything that came before you was just a dream,
perhaps,
and everything after
my dream come true.
i avoid the term
resisting labelling
insisting we’re the same
i’m just a mom, i say
just like the other moms
we bear so much alone
the ones who grow and birth
the ones who wake to nurse
i want to feel united
us moms, and not divided
we are the ones who stay
at home and play all day
who don’t drink coffee hot
or pee alone a lot
yet …
if i stop to sit
and just consider it
it’s really simple math
i’m here without a half
a set of extra hands
lunch hit the floor again
a “honey, could you get…”
dinner’s not ready yet
i need another heart
when mine’s falling apart
someone to share the blame
made a mistake again
someone to worry with
help lift the load a bit
talk a decision out
so much to think about
to share a memory
i’ll reach capacity
just hold this for one sec
i’ve got it, take a resthere sweetie need a hug?
leave that food on the stove
why don’t you take a shower
or maybe just lay down
there’s no one here to say
hey hon, great job today.
so please don’t get me wrong
you see us being strong
just like the other moms
rocking and singing songs
yes, at times, it does feel
the world is at my heels
and ‘cause it’s always been
i just shrug off that term
but yes, there’s only one
here,
that’s me
one
single mom.
mama musings 