Remembering Mother On Mother's Day
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Remembering Mother on Mother's Day
While I was growing up,
I remembered
The time my parents
Bought me a brand-new pair
Of rubber-soled, hi-top, black
Canvas running shoes.
To say I was as proud as a peacock
When I donned the footwear,
Was an understatement.
My Dad encouraged me to run
(As fast as my legs could carry me)
With those sneakers on my feet,
all laced up,
Down the lane I ran,
As fast as I could go,
And tripped over my own two feet.
I could hear my dad laughing
As I tried
My very best not to cry
(Skinned shins and all).
Then, I saw my mother running
Towards me.
Into her arms, she swept my head.
And then bent over
To kiss both of my knees, quickly.
“There,” she said, “The hurt is gone away.”
The pain was still there, but I felt guilty
And said; “I feel better.”
My dad, still laughing, watched,
And I felt ashamed:
For my clumsiness,
And loving my mother’s
Coddling.
After an arduous day of play,
And eating everything
My Mother set on my plate;
She or my dad would read me to sleep.
And in dreams,
I would live fantasies.
But there were times
Nightmares awakened me;
Scaring me half to death, as I lay trembling,
In my PJs with the blankets pulled over my head.
How my Mother ever knew
Remained a mystery.
But she would be there,
Sitting on the edge of the bed;
With her hand
Softly stroking my forehead.
Whispering, loving words,
To reassure and comfort me,
And lull me back to sleep.
Copyright © Dennis Spilchuk | Year Posted 2018
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