fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 5

yesterday i looked up
i looked up and saw
that you were no longer my baby
i looked up and saw
that you had become my son

a year has passed,
more,
since you came to be
since we began the slow journey
toward knowing one another
life has come back to reclaim me
a jealous sibling
constantly competing for my time
it builds a wall between me
and the immediateness of our early days
with brick after brick of have-to’s
and i find myself asking:
what were you like back then?
were you really ever so small?

all i have left is a string of vignettes
soft-spun memories of our beginnings
of your tiniest self
golden
and delicate
and fragile to the touch:

the sparrow’s ribs beneath the surface of your torso;
the kiss-kiss purse of your tiny mouth;
the downy pillow of your cheeks;
the push and pull of your parenthetical little feet;
the gentle puff of your breath against my neck;
the soft lisp of your first whispers;
your toothless grin;
your wonder-filled eyes;
the feel of your dimpled fist against my chest;
the weight of your head in the hollow of my arm;
the unruly wisps of your gossamer hair,
standing up like a feather in your cap.

precious (few) details,
let me wear them around the neck of my soul
gather them in the palm of my heart
tattoo them to my mind’s eye
so that I may never forget
the magic of the days
when I was steeped in you.

– a.
july 6, 2015

Wyatt

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One Response to “fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 5”

  1. Monsieur La Roo Says:

    I can never read this one to the end, because I always get something in my eye.

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