Going back through old journals can be enlightening… especially when I find poems I don’t remember writing. The following is one such poem followed by one I chose to write in response to express how (over time) things have changed.
Where I was…
August 24, 2009
I need to find the ability to adapt
in my own home
to a woman who – by delusion or deceit –
will not respect me
or the simplest requests I would make of her.
My home has become a darker place
laden with anxiety
full of negativity
where I have no privacy from the prying eyes
of a pitiful woman
who chooses to leach life
over living a life of her own.
God, grant me grace…
…and now two years later.
On Her Eightieth
Sitting quietly with a small smile
happy for new sneakers
and a movie magazine,
she listens as her loving son regales her of recent events.
The color’s returned to her cheeks
and she’s gained a few much-needed pounds.
with light in her eyes and shine to her silver hair.
She caught me
wistfully watching her
as her son continued his conversation
and slowly broadened her smile
to a lovely grin.
A tender moment of unspoken understanding
and passed between us
until she again refocused her full attention
to her son.
not six months ago
played out with simple ease,
love, compassion and the realization
can heal some wounds.