Thursday, November 1, 2012

to be a mother

I am feeling more than a little sentimental this week, the week in-between our firstborn and middle daughter's birthdays.  

I keep reliving those first days of motherhood.  Becoming a mother was like discovering a new world, new continents of love opened up in me.  I spent the first weeks in a stunned state of elation and desperate weeping fear over the possibility of ever losing her; for the first time I was (am) capable of being completely destroyed.  I couldn't leave the room without missing her.  I still find a place in me that is only calm when all of my children are safely within sight.  I suppose this is the mothering organ we live with always.

I found this poem and I think it accurately describes what it means to be a mother.

Vietnam
Wislawa Szymborska

"Woman, what's your name?" "I don't know."
"How old are you? Where are you from?" "I don't know."
"Why did you dig that burrow?" "I don't know."
"How long have you been hiding?" "I don't know."
"Why did you bite my finger?" "I don't know."
"Don't you know that we won't hurt you?" "I don't know."
"Whose side are you on?" "I don't know."
"This is war, you've got to choose." "I don't know."
"Does your village still exist?" "I don't know."
"Are those your children?" "Yes."

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