I watch as you leave our home
fiercely independent
' no mom ... I can walk '
I worry about your shoes
are they sturdy enough
to keep you pain free all day
are they sturdy enough
to keep you pain free all day
are you warm enough
dry enough cool enough
dry enough cool enough
I wonder if stress
will trigger a migraine
bring your day to a screeching halt
will trigger a migraine
bring your day to a screeching halt
we navigate our city
strangers call out ' hey Carl'
strangers call out ' hey Carl'
I ask, ' who's that '
you reply 'just some customers'
Safeway ~ front of the store, your stage
place where everybody knows your name
Safeway ~ front of the store, your stage
place where everybody knows your name
I worry... We never stop, do we?
ReplyDeleteYou have brought our the relation so well ... loved it !!!
ReplyDeleteThey remain our responsibility for ever.
ReplyDeleteWhere everybody knows your name . . .
ReplyDeleteThat is a protection though there are no guarantees. Still, life and letting life are worth it, yes? Fine poem!
You have captured the essence of mother love here: and alternate clinging and driving away from them.
ReplyDeleteA mother is always a mother. I went to the Dr, thought I had an ulcer. Doc came back...and said, "you are pregnant and the heart burn will last at least 18 yrs." (No, it lasts a lifetime)
ReplyDeleteI love how you took us there and the ending so captured the show must go on...
well done
smiles....my dad is like that...downtown, everyone knows him....and i wonder if moms ever stop being moms....smiles....maybe not...
ReplyDeleteI really like the pov you decided to use for this, Helen...great write. :)
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem - a mother always worries!
ReplyDeleteVery elegant and poignant write Helen. I like the ending too - vert skilful and this lingers...
ReplyDeleteA mother's love is special...
ReplyDeleteMy boy is a police officer in NYC. Your poem goes right to my heart. Just last night, I was reminding him to hydrate, to try to get inside a building as often as possible, to remember that wearing a flack-jacket for hours can leave anyone overheated... I know he knows all these things. But like your poem shows so well, we never stop worrying about our loves.
ReplyDeleteCarl has now worked at Safeway sixteen years ... we still get the "Hey Carl" greetings.
DeleteA momma's heart feels every hurt, shares every victory. Carl has found a happy place, and he's obviously endeared himself to many. It must make your heart sing!
ReplyDeleteThat was just lovely! My oldest son let home by train three days after his 18th birthday, from California to Massachusetts! His girlfriend lived there. I was able to let go only because I had his younger siblings (5 and 3 then) to keep me occupied. It helped it was always mature for his age, even as a toddler! Oh, he'll be 40 this year, and it all turned out fine, including marrying the girlfriend 19 years ago! It's the girl child I worry over.
ReplyDeleteLove your reply .... thank you. Cheers and 'girl child' will be OK.
DeleteI see a Carl almost every day, everywhere I go; I always try to say hello. His mother should be proud to have such a son.
ReplyDeleteSo sweet. I relate to this as a mother. It's universal and the epitome of love. Makes me want to kiss my grown sons.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful mixture of motherly concern and motherly pride in a son who is so well-liked.
ReplyDeleteOh I love this poem filled with the path of a mother's heart. Beautiful
ReplyDeleteMy babies are on the verge of leaving the nest. It's already been nail biting when they come home late (but well within their curfew) on weekend nights.
ReplyDeleteWorrying for our children is probably a Mommy gene.
ReplyDelete