The Mark of Adam
No man told me how slapped I would feel in the wake
of his abrupt exodus for college. You bleed for eighteen
quick years doing what you pray is right by a boy
then just like that he’s gone and his room sits ashamed.
Wasn’t it just weeks ago there were five chairs around
the kitchen table? Now there are only four of us.
Its true this makes for more personal space at meals but
I find myself often cramped and unhungry. Unsonned.
If I wasn’t at least 91% certain this first born was rightly
placed and timed then God only knows what a man might
do with the resulting sharp shards of his happily broken
heart. No man tells a man of this mark. It must be earned.
thats a big 10-4
Thanks, Mike! Hope you are well.
“No man told me . . .”
But (just curious), has a mother ever told you?
Hi, Monica. Sure, plenty, but no men/fathers.
thank you for your words. My oldest daughter is also off at college, and I miss her down to my fingertips.
LL, yes, I know of these fingertipped blues. Thank you!
“Abrupt.”
My brain tells me, “Hey, he’s 18. It’s time for him to move on. You knew that.”
My heart says it like you: Abrupt.
JDB- God is soo good. Hmmm … maybe God is preparing you for the day when you walk one of your precious girls down an isle in a church … and she will NOT be going away to college!
A good friend of mine writes about, and reminds me, “ya gotta know when to hold ’em”.
beautiful words. just that.
John,
Though it is difficult for me to really understand or comprehend your complete poetic message at times, this time “The Mark of Adam” hit me square in my heart and soul.
May I share my similar feelings, even though it was many years ago — 1977. I call it “Ode to an Empty Chair.”
Thanks for your time.
Lindsay Terry Lindsay Terry 169 Lions Gate Drive St. Augustine, FL 32080 Phone 904-461-9113 http://www.lindsayandmarilynterry.com lindsay976@earthlink.net
Ode To An Empty Chair ‘Round the table comes the family, Subdued sadness fills the air. Each one knows that all to soon now There will be an empty chair.
Mom for eighteen years has planned it. Dad has labored long with care; But, the time has passed too swiftly, Time to laugh, to love, to share.
Hear the distant halls of learning Calling, beckoning the young. From their homes they scurry to them, Climbing ladders rung by rung.
Now the parents wait and wonder As their offspring wean away; And reflections of the past times Seem to lessen with each day.
News of grades and small achievements Brings a joy the family shares; And the heartaches now are helped some, ‘Caused by that ole empty chair.
Christmas, holidays and summer Bring the siblings wand’ring home, But the time has somehow changed them, Sheltered feelings long since gone.
They have left the nest now, safely, Flying high to do or dare; But it all seems somehow worth it, Even this ole empty chair. Lindsay Terry, August 29, 1977
“Unsonned.” Now there’s a word.
Truly; it doesn’t get any easier as they grow, either. We earn those ‘sharp shards’ by experience, just as a mother will never really ‘know’ childbirth no matter how many tales she’s heard. One must walk through it.
You put my feelings into words.
Dad