you little blonde haired wonder
like me and also yourself
I want to freeze you at five
I want to see your children
I want to know how you talk about the passions of your life
and I want to live long enough for it all.
You run, giggle and walk fast.
You observe and ask questions. You love family time.
When your head hits the pillow at night as you say you do not want to go to sleep and your eyes are closing, you are the light to the candle of my life.
she rustled under my polyester top as I walked in the sunshine to the blue Nova.
The doctor declared today would be her birthday; she was already three weeks late, no signs of starting labor.
I held her tightly to me.
Since the time of her birth, I have never put her down; not truly.
She left me to go to college and get married and have a career and start a family.
When she comes back,
I am waiting.
Her love for her daughters is strong and challenged by the times in which she lives.
I grow older; more tired, less able. A virus catches me and I am laid up for days and her children rebound in minutes, it seems.
Daughter of mine.
How can I say how I felt then, how I feel now? How fierce is my love? Fighting every day for her survival and the well-being of her young, I am lost, there is not enough of me. My energies are on the wane and I must go on to old age – alone.