Almost Like the First Day of School

She held me longer than usual this time
as we said our goodbyes.
She rubbed the clay of my back, sculpting
my shape in the space before her so
she could stand in that kitchen after I drove away
and remember clearly what she once made.
We both cried. Hers were familiar tears,
those of parting. She is my good mother.
Mine flowed from fears that I may have
lived a careless life. I am her oldest son who
lives now beyond the edge of the drive.
 
 
 

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20 Comments

  1. Sue on August 14, 2013 at 1:48 pm

    So beautiful. Mothers too worry that they may have lived careless lives – and we all live beyond the edge of the drive. Whew.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:30 pm

      Thank you, Sue. We probably all worry about careless lives, huh?

  2. fotomama986 on August 14, 2013 at 3:12 pm

    whew.

  3. nancy on August 14, 2013 at 3:58 pm

    deep deep sigh… deep sigh.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:31 pm

      Nancy, that’s what I did as I drove away…deep sighs.

  4. Diana Trautwein on August 14, 2013 at 4:28 pm

    What Sue said. Yeah, that. Thank you. Glad to see your name in my inbox again this morning.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:31 pm

      Hi, Diana. Its nice to know somebody’s glad to see my name.

  5. wynnegraceappears on August 14, 2013 at 5:09 pm

    Breathless beauty

  6. Deena on August 15, 2013 at 2:07 am

    Very tender! I love it!

  7. Joyce on August 15, 2013 at 2:42 am

    I thought nothing of leaving my parents until I became a mother and realized the unwitting and careless pain I caused. Perhaps my son shall write a poem like this one day and redeem just a bit of the love spilt out of my split open heart.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:33 pm

      Joyce, ‘perhaps’ is one of my favorite words…its a carrier of hope.

  8. Peg Richards on August 15, 2013 at 11:52 am

    I wish my mother had loved like this, but she didn’t. Such a tender poem.

    • Bob Kendall on August 15, 2013 at 7:05 pm

      My reaction exactly, My dad as well. Beautiful but for some of us bittersweet.

      • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:34 pm

        Bob, thanks for commenting, even in the bittersweet.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:34 pm

      Thank you, Peg.

  9. ElenaLee on August 15, 2013 at 6:53 pm

    To be loved and released is a precious gift. I like how this poem captures a bit of the pain children can feel as we wonder what we have done with the life our parents’ gave us.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 15, 2013 at 9:35 pm

      Elena, I wonder that more and more with each passing day…thanks for your comment.

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