By George Lundgren, Becketwood Member
A mother is born
With the final push.
Motherhood.
A blind insanity
Driven by unreasonable hope,
A determination
To keep alive an unknown stranger
At any cost,
A trainload of instincts
Set in motion by a cry,
By the sight of a helpless child,
By a warm form molded
Between arms and breast,
By one whose trust is complete,
By one whose need is total.
Motherhood.
Maker of miracles
For those touched by madness,
A woman
Transformed beyond herself,
A child
Loved and pushed and
Prodded and coaxed and
Cuddled and supported and
Nursed through the worst,
Till the door finally opens,
The child walks out
And disappears.
Motherhood memories.
The best and the worst,
Are contained in those nights between
Two and six,
When sagging eyes and
Cotton fuzzy brain
Struggle with quiet, and boredom,
And fear for a child who is ill.
And it’s anger
At not being able to sleep,
And it’s anger
At treatments that don’t work,
And it’s anger
At medicines that take days to help.
And it’s guilt
For not knowing what to do,
And it’s guilt
For having to go to work,
And it’s the joy
Of being with your child
When they need you the most
When they can depend on you.
Motherhood.
She gets to the office
With hair-unwashed-no-make-up-on,
Flat blank eyes from lack of sleep,
With a sick limp child
Sleeping on her chest.
She’s at her best.
She’s passed the test.
It doesn’t get any better than this.
There’s a years’ worth of tears
When a child leaves home.
No switch to throw, no button to push,
That turns the motherhood off
Like there was to turn it on.
No easy out,
No comin’ down slow,
Crash.
Something’s missing at home,
There’s an ache inside.
Outpourings of love
With no target to hit,
No jobs to get done,
No schedules to keep,
And,
No treatments to help the pain.
Feel, talk, wait.
Fill the space with something new?
Motherhood.
The roots remain in the dark
About where the sprout goes,
About where the leaves find their sun,
About how the sky looks to the
Reaching branch.
Grounded
In the insane love of motherhood
Children do make their way
Out into the world,
And moms never lose
A mother’s love
A mother’s fears
And a mother’s memories.
George, this captures and understands a huge life experience very movingly. I’m sending it to my daughter who just launched her two girls to faraway adventures. Thank you for writing it.
Thank you. It brought back memories. I’m sharing it with my daughter who sent her oldest off to college this week. Beautiful.
Wow- so well written, so true. Thank you, George.
You have expressed well the loving ups and downs of motherhood. thank you.