I had hoped your smile would distract me. Because I am already full of this life. No not the good life. Not picture perfect stills and images, not the photo copied or dog eared pages of time.
I am belly full of heartache.
This is the landing strip of adulthood and maturity. Making decisions, having answers to questions I never want to hear like “did your son do this?”
This is the year I want to look away and maybe settle my sight on a warm friendly smile, for a minute or two. Or share a gentle laugh at some ridiculous thought you or I muttered out loud over hot tea and bread. Just to get some fresh air outside my head where I live.
You know, a mother’s life.
The constant chatter of confusion, clicking like cold teeth. “What’s going to happen to him?” is a nightly lament I send up like a smoke signal in hope of rescue.
I try to rest, slapping away your judgements like mosquitoes buzzing around me that only want to repeat how things should have been, but I didn’t know.
I only thought I needed love.