Grateful

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My mom, my grandfather, and me, 1983

stretching in the feeble new sunlight

of a fresh dawn

hazy-bright with fledgling possibilities

to be coaxed into being

gently, hopefully

cradled and sheltered

are new chances

 

While I decided long ago that having children was not for me, I will always be awed and grateful for my mom and all she does.  Not only is she one of the most selfless women I know, but it takes a special kind of bravery to reinvent oneself, to work on one’s flaws, and to examine one’s life and say, “I want something better.”  I wrote this poem for my mother a while ago and wanted to share it here, in the spirit of spring and of celebrating nurturing women everywhere.

 

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