How did this happen?
Posted: February 1st, 2014, 8:52 pm
HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? (first draft)
written and dedicated to my daughter Alicia Rose
How did this happen?
I feel the tapping of tiny feet
inside me, her head turning down
into the exit slide and it was the ride of
my life, not rushed, but long-houred strife,
each contraction the most intense pain ever felt.
And I dealt with it the way all
mothers do, a waiting game,
the insane craving to count
each of her fingers and her toes,
and oh those slim long piano fingers,
how they rose to the occasion, grasping
my thumb, clinging to breast for feeding!
Oh, how the excruciating song cries linger,
still the echoes in my ears which have
remained there for years
to hear again after she emerged!
…… And I remember fondly how
…… she pushed herself up with
…… her legs bowed, head turned
…… slightly up toward the right,
…… chin sort of suggesting a
…… question mark from the
…… point of cheekbone to eye
…… as if to say did I do it right?
…… did I? Did I? Do you accept
…… me now?
How did this happen?
It feels so absurd, so unreal!
What fraction of memory will remain?
A one-lane road on the way to daycare,
tears paired with reluctance to leave.
Training wheels on a bike, a slip of a wheel,
later on the ice, lost her stance, slip of the foot,
a shoulder displaced. The race to the ER,
one of many to come later, kidneys in danger,
so-called professionals, though strangers
telling us how to care for a concussion, passed out,
three times in a row, my perfect petite princess,
my strong little fragile wise spawn!
How did this happen?
Soon comes the dawn
when choral concerts are captured on film,
rewards given in classes documented, each
teacher more of a succinct memory for her
than for me, but I could see
that some truly cared, some didn't.
…… And just as the first step
…… was taken, a dawn awakened
…… with ruby robe and azure sash
…… light streaming in through a blind
…… slat, flatcakes ready to grill, a still
…… night never slept and now we
…… knew why as if we'd never known
…… anything at all ever before
And now she's packed her designer jeans,
her gifts received, the scarves which cover up
her scarred neckline due to migraine times when
she went limp, a rag doll weak in my arms,
the jewelry to be donned on her ears;
packed up, her fears and revelations, the
various stations where she stood, the jetliners
carrying an elementary school child, wild
with anticipation, totally alone, to her destination —
and me, standing on the sidelines with a kiss and sigh.
"Please say goodbye to your sister," the airline steward said,
and we laughed a laugh so loud the heads in the crowd
seemed to turn, and we hugged an embrace so tight,
the night disappeared and all we could hear
were our heartbeats
blending
together,
a metronome
never severed.
How did this happen?
A new step taken, packed bags
to another home — her own.
Twenty-one years passed and the
last memory I have continues at least
the duplicate of time. Twenty-one more or
more than that, I hope, each little bag of toiletries
filled with scented soap and perfume accompanying
her like laced undergarments, my grown little lady,
my petite darling wonder, piano fingers long and lithe
reaching out to grasp the entire size of the universe!
God, I hope I taught her right!
I pray this night will bring her peace
and hereby release my duty as temporary caretaker
with stone-solid promises to be here as mentor and consultant.
And though I am reluctant
to let her go, I know
I've done my job
and she has done hers.
Her cats purr waiting for the ride
to her new side of the earth
and today, again, is like giving birth—
but this time to an adult.
How did this happen?
Did some alien-worshiping cult
come to pick her up and sweep her away?
No! Today she is going but she will always be here,
as near to me as my heart between breast bones,
each beat the perfection of a permanent connection.
…… Oh, and how she sang
…… her alto voice rang through
…… and the audience knew
…… she was a star
…… shining into
…… the nether!
I taught her honesty. I taught her truth.
I will remember each minute through her youth
and her becoming an adult. I have no amnesia.
I present to the world, my daughter, Alicia!
But, how did this happen?
-Doreen Peri, 2/1/2014
written and dedicated to my daughter Alicia Rose
How did this happen?
I feel the tapping of tiny feet
inside me, her head turning down
into the exit slide and it was the ride of
my life, not rushed, but long-houred strife,
each contraction the most intense pain ever felt.
And I dealt with it the way all
mothers do, a waiting game,
the insane craving to count
each of her fingers and her toes,
and oh those slim long piano fingers,
how they rose to the occasion, grasping
my thumb, clinging to breast for feeding!
Oh, how the excruciating song cries linger,
still the echoes in my ears which have
remained there for years
to hear again after she emerged!
…… And I remember fondly how
…… she pushed herself up with
…… her legs bowed, head turned
…… slightly up toward the right,
…… chin sort of suggesting a
…… question mark from the
…… point of cheekbone to eye
…… as if to say did I do it right?
…… did I? Did I? Do you accept
…… me now?
How did this happen?
It feels so absurd, so unreal!
What fraction of memory will remain?
A one-lane road on the way to daycare,
tears paired with reluctance to leave.
Training wheels on a bike, a slip of a wheel,
later on the ice, lost her stance, slip of the foot,
a shoulder displaced. The race to the ER,
one of many to come later, kidneys in danger,
so-called professionals, though strangers
telling us how to care for a concussion, passed out,
three times in a row, my perfect petite princess,
my strong little fragile wise spawn!
How did this happen?
Soon comes the dawn
when choral concerts are captured on film,
rewards given in classes documented, each
teacher more of a succinct memory for her
than for me, but I could see
that some truly cared, some didn't.
…… And just as the first step
…… was taken, a dawn awakened
…… with ruby robe and azure sash
…… light streaming in through a blind
…… slat, flatcakes ready to grill, a still
…… night never slept and now we
…… knew why as if we'd never known
…… anything at all ever before
And now she's packed her designer jeans,
her gifts received, the scarves which cover up
her scarred neckline due to migraine times when
she went limp, a rag doll weak in my arms,
the jewelry to be donned on her ears;
packed up, her fears and revelations, the
various stations where she stood, the jetliners
carrying an elementary school child, wild
with anticipation, totally alone, to her destination —
and me, standing on the sidelines with a kiss and sigh.
"Please say goodbye to your sister," the airline steward said,
and we laughed a laugh so loud the heads in the crowd
seemed to turn, and we hugged an embrace so tight,
the night disappeared and all we could hear
were our heartbeats
blending
together,
a metronome
never severed.
How did this happen?
A new step taken, packed bags
to another home — her own.
Twenty-one years passed and the
last memory I have continues at least
the duplicate of time. Twenty-one more or
more than that, I hope, each little bag of toiletries
filled with scented soap and perfume accompanying
her like laced undergarments, my grown little lady,
my petite darling wonder, piano fingers long and lithe
reaching out to grasp the entire size of the universe!
God, I hope I taught her right!
I pray this night will bring her peace
and hereby release my duty as temporary caretaker
with stone-solid promises to be here as mentor and consultant.
And though I am reluctant
to let her go, I know
I've done my job
and she has done hers.
Her cats purr waiting for the ride
to her new side of the earth
and today, again, is like giving birth—
but this time to an adult.
How did this happen?
Did some alien-worshiping cult
come to pick her up and sweep her away?
No! Today she is going but she will always be here,
as near to me as my heart between breast bones,
each beat the perfection of a permanent connection.
…… Oh, and how she sang
…… her alto voice rang through
…… and the audience knew
…… she was a star
…… shining into
…… the nether!
I taught her honesty. I taught her truth.
I will remember each minute through her youth
and her becoming an adult. I have no amnesia.
I present to the world, my daughter, Alicia!
But, how did this happen?
-Doreen Peri, 2/1/2014
gracias for sharing it!!!!!