Mom

I can remember when becoming a mom consumed my every thought.
How to convience, plan and encourge a journey leading life in that direction.

Those first few months, I recognized within me a confidence, it was solid, made for it, indeed. Doubt didn’t stand a chance.
I never, not once, saw myself going it alone.

Being mom always included a dad.

Here I am, a mom. Content with how we’ve done. The children are a constant beside me. Never questioning the road. Still not comfortable parenting solo.

I always thought families deserved both.

Even if mom looks like this…

I think you’ll agree there’s an astonishing similarity.

Circa 2012

Proof

image

 

I counted
You placed me in danger
Thirteen separate times
In two hours
Don’t tell me that you love me
When I know that’s a lie

***
I remember promising you guys that I would post a picture of the doodlings I sketch out, while waiting for words to arrive on paper. An epiphany occurred after I’d drawn this picture, then a poem created from a memory.

The picture is meaningless, well not the thirteen heavily drawn red tallies, it seems, which have permanently indented the next few pages of my tablet, but overall it’s just doodles.

What I’ve realized is that actions DO speak louder than words. Yes, this message has been heard a million times before, I know. Now, the missive is understood. Finally. Lack of protection will never translate into love. Not for me, anyway.