Post Children
After my children, I blended into a new being
Mommy, someone selfless and giving
A person who forgot what hobbies and friends were
I threw myself into their lives, as if my life depended upon it
as if I did not have a life at all, really
the only value I saw in me was through them
But my children grew up, moved away, started families
I had lots of extra time on my hands; what to do with it?
My granddaughter coaxed me into painting
I loved that; ran with it as if I was on fire
my enthusiasm for that rarely waned
After it did I remembered that I used to write
I picked up a pen, and began writing stories and poems
Sixteen hundred paintings and 34, 000 poems later
I remember there was a me
before my children came
and she is back.
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