Monday, July 22, 2013

A Walk A Walk

Or as you pronounce it 'awah-awah'.
Right now it's in your top five words and phrases along with 'Dahnnn!!' (down)
which of course allows you to awah-awah.

Today you referred to Grandma as 'Mum-Mum', which may just stick.
She's probably in the air by now
and my heart is going to ache when you awaken from your nap and ask for her,
curious as to where your new and wonderful companion has gone.

I will tell you that she went home and that we'll fly to see her in just a few short weeks
and you'll nod or stare and ask for more rice cakes or strawberries.

Ten minutes later you'll repeat the question and so on and so forth until you loosen your grasp on the mystery.

You may wonder why your mama is slower today than she's been in the last week
or where all the conversation has gone

but I could never explain to you now or maybe ever
why saying goodbye to a loved one is so hard
about getting older or mortality or any number of things that make life what it is
in its fullness.
Existential stuff that you'll cover in A.P. English 
but never begin to grasp until you're older.

Or maybe you'll be just like me
and on a summer evening when you're seven or so you'll sit on the back porch with me
and look at my hands, suddenly and horribly realizing that someday they'll look older,
that I will get older.

If you're anything like your old lady you'll freeze the moment
forever in your gorgeous brain, what I wore, the temperature of the air, the crickets
and the watermelon rinds on a brown and mustard-yellow ringed dish.

Maybe it will define the way you see the world as it did for me,
the constant urge to capture and celebrate the beautiful now
that blooms like a deafening and constant flower
somewhere deep in the fabric of the cosmos

or maybe you'll fly through your years without the heaviness of such creative
sensitivity, awash in numbers of sports equipment or chess pieces.

I cannot think one is better than the other, except that other options might be a lot less...aching.
Your mama aches an awful lot in the best and worst ways.

I ache
When I look at you
or your handsome Daddy
or my own parents

Time of late has been flying for me
though it has not even begun to fly for you:
I suspect growing bones and teeth and motor skills is arduous work
that adults would resist and bemoan.
I think there is so much bravery in being a baby.

After all these years of being a daughter
I am still somebody's baby: can you imagine that?
The very same hands that guided your stomps and steps this morning
did the same thing with me when I was small.

We are so lucky to know her, baby boy,
so lucky to be of her tribe.

I suspect by the way she made you smile that you already know this, that there are certain things that don't need to be taught to be understood.



mesmoro said...

Beautifully and Lovingly Written.

When is your book of essays going to be published?

Allisunny S. said...

Aw, Mary....that made me smile! :) xoxoxo

Joanna DeVoe said...

Absolute poetry & maximum sweetness!!! -xo

thewindhover said...

there is nothing quite so beautiful as mama eyes (ours) drinking in our babes with our mums... thank you for this walk dear A xx

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Julie Rose said...

You've reduced me to blubber this morning. I love you!