Poetry/Remembering The Days I carried Life
I remember all of you, all five of you inside of me fighting to be free.
Did you hear my voice?
Did you feel my love?
Once, My eggs were riped and I worried about having more mouths than I could afford to feed.
Now, I worry about the empty nest soon to come when the youngest leaves home, and I don't know if I will be able to stand the quietness.
My entire life has been filled with voices.
First, The voices of my siblings, screaming for space in the bed.
Second, My own family, screaming for my attention.
Once, I yelled, "I give up the name Mom" , after hearing it a thousand times.
What I wouldn't give to hear it a millions time now, that only the youngest is left, and he calls me "Mother".
The youngest is always the most independent in the end, they have to fight to be free.
Because they know, Mothers hold on for dear life till the last one leaves home.
It is too quiet in this house and he hasn't even left home, he always has somewhere to go, something to do.
However, My spirit already anticipates the longing for his voice, "Mother".
And I remember when I carried Life inside of me when my eggs were riped before
Menopause spoiled them all.