Some of you have read this previously; I actually wrote it nearly twenty years ago but it does not lose anything with time. I didn't change a thing, but was prompted to re-read it myself, just a little while ago. When I did, I wanted to share it... again.
for jesse
you came into my life once
wrinkled, pink, and
nearly bald
instinctively
you knew me
you clutched at my fingers
stared into my eyes
and the fears I had before
(which I knew would go away once I held you)
multiplied a thousand-fold
could I raise you
to a strong smart sensitive
loving man?
would you love me back?
could I let you go?
would I know how to comfort you
when you cried?
could I keep you safe?
you grew quickly
the red-faced infant became
the happy round toddler
the handsome little boy
marching onto the bus
Not Looking Back
I cried
I didn't want to let you go
we were friends then
you were strong, smart, sensitive, loving
you loved me back
I knew how to comfort you
and just what to do when you cried
(you must have cried when he took you away)
after a time
(A Long Time)
you came once more into my life
thin and shy
wary
my baby gone forever
an angry young man in his place
I know you have tried
to forgive me
but we can't go back
and I don't know if you recall
how I used to hold you in my arms
and rock you
whisper in your ear
and make everything all right
how it was me
who tucked you in at night with a story
or a game
or sometimes just a kiss
how we never said good night
till both of us smiled
and I always found a way
to wake you laughing
and I don't know if you remember
how easy it was to smile and laugh with me
you don't smile like that
any more
and I know
you don't know how hard I tried
to keep you safe
because I failed
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Comments: 32
I remember this and love it.
Thanks, J M.
Very heartwarming.
Carol, I appreciate your words.
Beautiful, touching. Makes me feel sad for all that you and Jesse lost.
Have you ever shared this with him? He should read it.
I have shared it with Jesse, Marge. A few years ago. He got teary-eyed, but didn't want to talk about it. Perhaps one day, I will show it to him again.
I'm glad he read it. Perhaps one day he will be able to discuss it with you.
I hope, Marge. If only...
Too many of us have a piece of our lives that are touched by that.
George
We do, George. Sad, but a testament to the strength of the human character, too.
Yes, and also a testament to the failing of humans.
Absolutely true. But I'm a survivor, and I think I raised one, too. I can't see it any other way.
Very bittersweet. Good poetry, too.
Thank you, Sherrie. Your words are always appreciated.
Oh my, this is sad. I hope Jesse is okay.
I pray, Lee. Twenty years later, he still holds so much inside.
I remember this one also. It's too bad that our children can't remember all of the special moments as well as the bad moments. I did that for awhile with my parents. But now that I'm older and wiser I have learned to let them go. Perhaps one day your son wll be able to do the same thing. :)
The problem with Jesse is that he still has virtually no memories of his life prior to age ten, and that was when I got him back after three years of "estrangement." In his eyes, I was a stranger. So he can't remember the good things. On the other hand, he doesn't remember the bad, either. The first memory he has is of my taking him from his father, which for him was the only thing he knew.
Dear Julie, my heart aches for both of you - hold fast to the image of where Jesse wants to be - what he wants to be - and this will strengthen him. Bless you,Cristina
Cristina, my beautiful friend... I owe you much. I believe we are taking the right steps now, and I believe that he will reach a place where he is "at home" within himself.
btw ~ my mom feels the same about me ~ and when I tell her I do not blame her for anything, well, she is just now starting to believe me. She gave me the tools to work with ~ the tools to build a good life for myself ~ what I did with those tools, whether using them or not ~ was my choice. love you again ~j
And though my relationship with my own mother was very broken, I believe she gave me lots of tools to work with, as well. Perhaps they were the wrong ones, but at least, I figured out that they didn't work! And I found new ones. I was smart enough to do that, and to never stop fighting for my spirit... because of her. Love you, too, Jean.
I think the thing to remember is that you did the best you could with what you knew at the time. I don't think you failed, and I don't believe that you should hold yourself responsible for things that haven't turned out the way you hoped. We can only love them, and hope and pray that things turn out well. You know I have some experience of my own with a son, and the one thing I've learned is that there is always hope. Things really do get better, eventually.
I did, Sue and quite honestly, had I NOT failed him at age seven, I can't say for certain that he would have turned out differently. I'm hoping and praying that what has been put in motion NOW will not fail. But it's not really up to me any more.
I think I know what you mean Julie. However, I believe that there comes a time in our lives when we must put those feelings of failure to keep our children safe, behind us. For instance, as a first time Mom back when my Kayla was very young, I felt extremely inadequate as a Mom. Looking back I now know that I was being unfair to myself as a human-being. Keeping that in mind, what I am doing now is all that matters to my lovely daughter. :) She knows that no matter what I failed her in back then does not reflect on the Mom that I have become. Therefore, with that in mind, what matters now for you is that you are there for Jesse doing everything that you can for him.
Thank you, dear Cheryl. I do know what you mean, and the same thing is the reason I was able to forgive so much of my mother's lack of mothering. By the time she died, I know, without a doubt, that if she could have gone back and undone the damage done to me as a child, she would have. Or she would have traded places with me. Or something. She did absolutely everything she could, to make it up to me, and by the time of her death, was the best friend to me that I could imagine.
Kayla is a lucky girl, Cheryl. You were only human, and not inadequate at all. Much like I was.
Oh hunny... {{{HUGS}}} Just {{{HUGS}}} I don't believe you failed sweetie... I really don't.