Mother and Child from ‘A Child’s Book of Old Verses 1910’ by Jessie Willcox Smith
A Visit Home
Laundry carried down and upstairs and beds made smooth, pillows fluffed,
Bathrooms scoured, floors scrubbed, rooms tidied, and cookies baked.
You arrive tired after flights or long drives and I envelop you in hugs and offer
food and drink, or an herbal remedy for an upset stomach or headache.
After a refreshing sleep, I sit with you while you breakfast
with a cinnamon roll, eggs, or a berry smoothie and
we have long conversations. You go off to meet other folks who are waiting for you
and come back again. I am grateful you sleep here even when you leave for the day.
We go out for meals or we watch movies and talk some more.
I marvel at your perspectives, ask questions, listen hard and note how you’ve
changed. And then the too-soon moment of departure nears and we edge around
it until it can no longer be delayed.
We hug. I cry. We hug and hold on and I tell you how much I love you,
how proud I am of you, how glad I am for your life unfolding,
bright and strong with youthful zest and determination.
I wave as you drive away and try not to become overwhelmed by
the grief that takes my mother heart a few days to process.
It feels like a death but this is life. Heartbreakingly beautiful life.
Another chapter of us has been written. I store up the good memories of
your visit and wait with the light on for the next time you come home.
Well done. Moving