Part-time Mother

There’s so little time to be her mother,
Twice a month doesn’t count for much.
I try to pack as much love
As I can into those times,
Try to include discipline, listening, teaching,
Understanding, encouragement,
Fulfilling her needs enough to last
Until the next time she is with me.

She looks up at me, questioning,
Always questioning, trying to decipher
What is happening –
And my sometimes evasive answers,
My childish confusion as to how to answer her
Do not satisfy either one of us,
Because I’m as bewildered at times as she.

How can I give her courage
When I’m scared all the time?
Stability when my life has no pattern?
Assurance when I’m so unsure?

There’s so little time to be her mother,
I hope it’s enough – it’s got to be enough
So she won’t forget I’m still her mother
And I love her so very much.

Don’t forget me, little one.

1984

Flying - Falling

It’s difficult to fly with a broken wing –
Almost impossible, in fact.
As one tries to rise above the clouds,
The effort becomes too great.
The world seems tilted, unbalanced, teetering.
Perhaps it really is flat with a falling-off point,
I feel I am there.

I haven’t felt so weighted down in a long while,
Or so jumbled in my head,
Staring into space occupies my time,
A volcanic well of tension and anxiety reacts sharply
To a telephone’s ring, a child’s chatter,
Even a broken fingernail.

I plod from hour to hour
Longing only for the day to end
So I can say I made it through another day.
People pass in and out of my world –
I pay them no mind.

It’s lonely isolating oneself from human contact,
But perhaps necessary when waiting for a wound to heal.
I wonder if you are isolated too,
If a crippled limb prevents you from flying.

I wish we could fly together, just us two,
I would love you to heaven and back.
I would leave you no time for regret.
I would lift you to heights you’ve never known before,
If only you would let me.

Broken wings mend –
Perhaps I’ll fly again, perhaps I won’t –
I cannot say just now.

I’ll have to learn to walk again
Before I try to fly.

I have no motivation for doing either ---
Without you.

Father's Day

Sometimes I wish I were a little girl again,
I’d climb upon your knee,
Show you my hurt and have you kiss it away.
With your strong arms to hold me,
Your fortress of love to protect me,
Nothing could ever harm me again.
But I am not a little girl,
And you are asleep in Jesus.
But I feel your presence
Near to me when I hurt.
Your fortress of love combined
With God’s care for me is awesome.
I thank God for giving me you –
To mold me and guide me when I was small.
I thank Him, that by His grace,
You knew Him before you died.
And I thank Him that all pain for you has ceased,
And you live with Him for all eternity.
Father’s Day for me is a mixture of pain and joy,
Pain because I miss you
And joy because you dwell with God.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad,
I’ll meet you later on.