My little girl is eleven. That's
three years away
from my first beer
cigarette
lover
four years away
from my first misdemeanor
and the felonies that followed
five years away
from me choosing to waste
the brains
the good Lord gave me
and six years away
from those other mistakes
I've spent myself trying
to take back.
For Midweek Motif ~ Choice at Poets United. Also submitted to The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads.
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Wednesday, September 23, 2015
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
28 comments:
A lot of truth on different levels for many of us to confront with this piece of wisdom, MZ!!
Those times that reality is the most surreal of all. What a realization! It will speak to many.
Such a few years between eleven and fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Scary for a mom when our daughters approach those terrible years. With you by her side to keep her safe, hopefully she will navigate those perilous waters well. Some do. Your poem really hits home, my friend.
Despite your regrets, I sense an underlying note of hope.
Nicely chronicled. The spirit parent watching.
Have a good Wednesday
Much love...
Mine is 12 (and my son is 13), and I cannot tell you how many times I have thought these things. May their choices be different than our own. Well done.
Whew, MZ....scary, isn't it, as you see your own daughter growing up? Facing some of the choices you faced? I understand your fear. Every mother's fear. We must hope and pray and be present and watchful in our children's lives, I think. (And I in my grandchildren's lives...my grandson is now 12.)
I have a feeling being a teenager means a you will do mistakes... the only difference between success and failure is often how we are caught... Most of us do get through though, hopefully having learnt from some mistakes.. but yes it's a concern. Tomorrow we will take out Godson (he's 15) to see Cabaret...
So profound!!
So many have "wasted the brains the Good Lord gave us" This is when the line, Do what I say, not what I do, comes in handy.
As always, total enjoyment from your write.
They survive us and they survive themselves. Just as we did.
Well, maybe her teenage rebellion will go the opposite way. One can but hope. However, Fireblossom's comment is the best!
So much life and so many choices packed into so few years--I get your piece on so many levels--
That's tough introspection.. nicely done!
though they do not know what is what the young ones are strong as well to survive but worries, fears never leave the parents...sigh..
It is scary at times to see your child reach the age when you wrote foolish with the ink of mistakes.
Nothing like a year by year comparison of oneself with one's child to bring a whole new perspective to one's own life, and choices.
This poem speaks for every parent. Thanks, MZ.
Hopefully your experiences will help you steer her clear of a lot of trouble. Raising children is such a blessing and at the same time so scary.
Another good poem. Laced with regret,I could wallow in regret. Is there no end to your genius?
Enjoy 11! It is a wonderful age. I think you've taken a great deal back wonderfully. ((Though don't really view the poem as autobiographical either.) I don't regret any misdemeanors personally, and was not brave enough for felonies. I regret more of the dutiful stuff honestly--well, some of it--k.
What a honest and searing poem - I think she will be fine - you are her Mama after all ;)
The best part of a bad choice is we can choose to correct it. We can choose to help others make better choices.
Much math in these lines...and teens feel so wise in this age of 11... Enjoy and be the best friend to her.
We will be pretty idle and bored if we don't make a few mistakes in our lives. The secret is to learn from them and not repeat them.
Savor it, and know that all the heart poured into this and her is the real poetry she will learn to sing for herself. Maybe with a little payback for the grief your sins caused others. :)
WHOA!
What a lot to consider.
My mom had 4 kids by the time she was 21. She might relate to a lot of this piece.
Whenever I find myself regretting that I don;t have any children of my own, I am also relieved. Such an enormous responsibility that every parent must bear, all those choices every day that he or she must make, all that worry, that anxiety must be such huge burden on one's soul. However, the joys of parenthood must also figure in there, as well...
Well-penned!
Too fucking good, this was. Bril, and I don't throw that around lightly.
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