For nine months
I delivered her pain
then the unspeakable agony
that hot July morning
when she delivered me
my life.

For nine more months
I deprived her of sleep
my only gift to her
stinky slippery brown
received with gentle loving hands
diapers hand washed, pinned and dried on the line
her tired arms reaching up to gather them
I wailing squirming on the blanket
she desperate to comfort me
but another dozen still flapping on the line.

For nine years plus
I tortured her
precocious always in motion
my father, when he was home
from interminable days at the plant,
had me checked for worms.
Now I know it was A.D.D.
I wonder how many times she blamed herself
for the little irritating imp
she had birthed.

Have you seen the picture of the guardian angel
with the two children on the rickety bridge?
That was Mom.

Etched in my memory
the moment during her wake
I leading her old friends and fellow parishioners
in my favorite hymn, “On Eagles Wings,”
sobbing with grief
felt her smiling and saying:
I free you, son.
Fly with the eagles.

For all my flights and soaring,
for the lessons in empathy
gentleness and kindness
amidst your frightful world,
thank you Mom.

03/10/2010

Posted on 03/10/2010
Copyright © 2025 Glenn Currier