17 May 2015

Child of Mine

You may not believe me but I think about you all the time. At least a hundred times a day my eyes fall upon one of the many photographs of you and I smile and remember one of the millions of memories of you stored away but kept within easy reach, ready to be treasured once again. Sometimes tears will fall when the memory is one where you were hurting and I berate myself for not having protected you from that pain. Mostly I recall all the many ways you  have me smile or laugh, enriching my existence in ways I could never have dreamt of when you were born or I have moments when my heart has nearly burst with pride recalling the so very many ways that you have made me proud of you and all your achievements.

Last weekend I was sitting in a hide watching birds when out of the corner of my eye I saw a young man perch himself on a bench just a few feet away. I caught my breath as just for a second I thought it was you. I stole many glimpses. He was a little younger than you, maybe just 18 but he was a similar build, tall but not quite as tall as you, slim with slender wrists and long, beautiful fingers. His beard was new with the young fluffy growth intermingled with the more mature manly whiskers. It was cut close to his face the way you used to wear yours. It was however, his eyes that mesmerised me. Dark endless brown just like yours, covered with lashes so long and curly that any woman would be envious of such a natural born gift.

Maybe he felt my glimpses because too soon he was gone.

And then the tears rolled down my face, slowly, silently. The pain in my heart solid like a rock. The longing to hug you and hold you, a physical pain almost renting my body in two.

Just a call. Tell me how you are, what you're up to, what your plans are, if you're keeping well and looking after yourself. Keep it light. No heavy stuff. Just a call.

I miss you Son.

1 comment:

  1. Such poetry, the meter being one and the same as that of the heartbeat. Every son should read this... TO HIS MOTHER. -G

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