“For How Can A Mother Forget Her Lost Little Children”
It’s Mother’s Day again! That time
When mother’s are recognized and
accolades are merited by those
Who revere their mothers, for the
Legacy handed down from endearing
Grandmothers
I often wonder what it would have
Been like to have been a part of
A loving atmosphere like that
The stores are tantalizing with their
Flamboyant cards and flowers, making
Even the most resentful feel guilty in not
Taking part
Special dinners with family gatherings
Pictures of smiling children,
But with some people it isn’t really
Like that. When I became a mother
I suddenly realized by no fault of mine
(I hope) it wasn’t easy to follow the trend
Of laughing and happiness with the
Mother of mine, shopping, makeup,
Hairdos and such, my mother was
Very difficult, neurotic and a little
Crazy, and I didn’t like her very much.
I dreaded Mother’s Day and holidays
For the trauma of being together, of
Accusations, fighting and general
Trauma, tears and fears that someone
Might find out how this difficult family
Really was
I was given children, and as I have said
Before, I dreaded the possibility that
My children would feel the same about
Me as I did her. Of the statement that
Said “What goes around comes around
And you reap what you sow” petrifying
Words to a mother who meant well.
Then there came the day when the
Doctor’s statement came “your mother
Has cancer” and then I was filled with
Shame and fear and did all I could to
Take care of her.
I was blessed with children, and as it
Would be easy to understand, they
Sometimes found it difficult to know
Where their mother came from…
Especially from loved ones I find it
Hard to receive rejection, but when
I put myself in their position it all
Seems fair. Some might say and I
Say it to myself, you have one child
Who cares, isn’t that enough?
But then I am reminded of a story I
Have heard, of a man who had many
Sheep and built a fortress for them to
Sleep, to protect from lions and
Wolves
And after the gate was shut,
He went to sleep, awakening in the
Morning counting his sheep, and
Though there were ninety and nine,one
Was missing, he began his search
For his lost little lamb, and not until
He found him would he be happy and
Rejoice
I hope my children could remember the
Nights I tucked them in bed, praying
They would be saved from the enemy
Who likes to destroy family homes
So the fold of safety will always be
Open, how can a mother forget her lost
Little children?
Written by a mother who finds it
Difficult with emotions to write this,
To make sure of spelling and
Pronunciation, it all comes from the
Heart
Copyright (2020) DN
Donna's Poetry Blog 