Tomorrow is your Birthday. The birth of a son is an unparalleled gift to his mother and I was especially blessed. You arrived when I was a mere 25 years old, a babe yet myself. I delivered you alone with my one unrestrained hand, a metaphor for our life together which had yet to unroll. The nurses whisked you away telling me that you were contaminated because I had touched you. I never knew exactly why you spent that first night of your life without me by your side while your Dad and I enjoyed a lavish dinner sent in by my OB, a consolation prize for missing your birth.
It was the seventies and saccharin lyrics poured freely through the ether tenderly washing up emotions long dormant or newly discovered. There was something hauntingly real in Helen Reddy's "You And Me Against the World " the lyrics caressing us with "and when one of us is gone, and one of us is left to carry on. Then remembering will have to do, those memories alone will get us through Think about the days of me and you, Of you and me against the world". When you were months old I penned this little ode to you.
Tiny man, feet tapping in heart's hollows
You have filled my life with a new rhythm
wildly racing, wonderful.
Teeming chambers no longer vacant
Speed your sap through ice choked chambers
crystals rising, ride the rims creating salty rapids
eye's love gifts.
Tiny man, your laughter lingering in brain's burrows
Bow, chisle, paint my hours with your baby beauties
As my life becomes a love lullaby
Just for you.
Wombless waif I wonder in the marvel that you have
delivered me, birthed me
given me life.
Time has towed us, heart to heart, into this present moment where life's middle and end meet. What an honor to have had such a magnificent traveling companion. I love you Eric. Happy Birthday!