Republished May 2020 in honor of Mother’s Day
Since this is Women’s History Month, and mothers can play such a huge role in their daughters’ lives, I wanted to share a poem I wrote dedicated to my mother. She has always been a positive female influence and someone I look up to a lot.
~
you gasped as you looked at me for the first time.
9 pounds, 12 ounces.
you were just happy i was here.
you told dad to drive so carefully,
you were terrified i would wake
to a loose pebble on the road.
you named me Grace, cause why not?
it’s a sweet name, and i was sweet.
you rocked me to bed each night,
eyes never leaving mine
you filled shelves with children’s books
and let me flip back and forth through them
pointing to images along the way
and gargling in glee.
you got me a easel and teared up
when i painted a blob and it called it you.
you let me use all of our tape rolls
to put together pieces of paper
with incoherent sentences written on them
and call it a story.
you watched movies with me
and then watched as i went to my bedroom
to think about them for hours
and came back with a new movie, created by me.
at night, you let “i have a headache”
be my excuse to crawl into bed with you
and snuggle into your arms as if i was still
9 pounds, 12 ounces.
you brushed my hair as tenderly as you could
even though i still hated it,
and rubbed sunscreen onto my face
while i was trying to get on the swing.
you bought me birthday hats and
and watched with amusement
as i used them to throw my stuffed dogs parties
(and later weddings).
you smiled when i came home and told you about my elementary school
reading awards and smiled, even more, when i showed you
my a+ essays.
you laughed when i showed you the “oscar-worthy”
movies me and my friend, and then me and my cousins,
had created using the power of my ipad’s editing software.
you cried almost every mother’s day
when i handed you a letter, or poem, or collage
and told me never to buy you something
if i can write you something instead.
you sat me down next to you one day
and showed me a website you had found
for a school called asfa
and then you celebrated when i became as excited
about it as you.
you squealed when i got accepted,
and you told me i would write amazing things
even if i didn’t believe you yet.
and now you hug me and buy me junk food
every time i tear up and tell you i’m overwhelmed
you fold my laundry
every time you can see i’m too stressed.
you tell me to relax and watch netflix with you
even when i tell you i have no time
because you tell me i need a break.
you ask to read everything i write,
you give me books from your library to read,
you told me when i told you
that maybe i should just be an accountant or something
no. you’re too talented to punch numbers.
you need to keep writing.
and then you squealed again when i got my first publication,
and again when i won my first writing award,
you enveloped me in your arms
with pride i could feel radiating off of you
and held me, although i may be half a head taller now
as if i was still
9 pounds, 12 ounces.
