Saturday, March 01, 2003
The First of March
Twenty-five years ago, on the first day of the month of March, my belly looked and felt like it was about to burst wide open. I was heavy with my first child, but I had to wait another fourteen days until he was ready to make his entrance into this world. Since then, he and I have grown in many different directions. We have both grown up and we have grown apart, only to be drawn back together again. Here is a poem I wrote to him when he was 17.
It is so hard for me to see you turning into a MAN
But I know that you will be the best one that you can.
Your Dad and I have done the best that we could do.
Your future is in your own hands now - your life is up to you!
But that does not mean that I will no longer care;
You know if you call on me that I will be there!
Please understand that even when my life on Earth is done
No matter where or what or when, you will always be my son.
No space or time, no job or career
Could ever make you to me, less dear.
I will try to guard my words, so that they cause you no pain
Please forgive me if my love for you seems like the pouring rain.
I look forward to your following your own dream.
But it still hurts me so much that I want to scream!
I know that I cannot always protect you
You are not a baby. I am just glad that you are YOU.
May God bless you in your life and keep you safe from harm.
I know that He will return you to me to hold in my arms.
Seventeen years to you is your whole life!
To me it is like the sharp edges of a knife.
Seventeen is such a turning point - so young and yet so old.
Be true to yourself my son and always be so bold!
Remember that you may go away, you may leave home;
But you can never leave me - no matter where you roam.
I am with you always in my thoughts and in my prayers.
You are my Son. I am your Mom. I will always, always care.