Mother’s Day is coming 

I’ll be a mother on the next one 

In my lower abdomen there’s a soft humming

I’ve got my fears but it seems most women survive 

Lately I’ve been dreaming about my own mother 

Her piercing eyes 

Her anxiety, how it always troubled me 

I’m realizing now that there were some things as a kid I didn’t see 

But now there’s words: diagnoses and terms – for patterns 

Sometimes I felt grounded while she may have been in Saturn

The hot flashes and mood swings – around the time I was 13

A nervous breakdown or two 

When some plans fell through 

When she felt trapped 

When a weak bladder took us off the map 

And all the boxes: plastic and cardboard 

How many clothes could one hoard? 

There was exhaustion 

Good intention and effort weren’t always enough 

She was given the “let go” more than once 

I wondered if there was weakness 

But looking back now, what I see is meekness 

I wonder how much practice I gave her 

Her grilled cheese sandwiches, her bedtime readings always showed me a Creator 

She always got up and tried 

And I remember sometimes I’d see her go out the back door holding her fold-out yellow beach chair 

I’d try to follow but my dad told me from inside to stay right there 

I look on now with more empathy

Menopause, neuroticism, panic disorder 

I think we’re all on the border 

?Horder?

Call it humanity 

Major depression, overactive bladder 

Ah, what does it matter?

I’m seeing everyone’s in the middle of some sort of calamity 

I’m grateful that growing up I still had a great family 

And there’s a story behind everyone’s “flaws”

In my dreams she still tells me to wash my paws

I hope for each generation to get better 

Each mom, each woman – is defined by more than a letter

And flimsy flowers could never express my gratitude 

To my mom and the others who made room 

For me and my friends 

They all passed on more good than bad 

As the next generation begins 

I’ll try to share the experiences I’ve had 

What I thought were critical eyes 

Were actually guardrails trying to steer me toward the prize 

Horseback riding, basketball and arrow shooting, rope swings 

And oh, puppies!

My mom let me enjoy all my favorite things

And she taught me about Jesus and that reading is a key 

To being the best one can be 

So I’ll read to my own kiddo

And we’ll pray

Over the next few months, I’ll try to dig this plank out of my own eye

I’ll try not to let my own troubled humanity get in the way

And I’ll do my best to show that empathy is a good road

And of course, we’ll make time to stop by Grandma’s