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My mom told me once,
ten yeas before I became a mother myself,
that were I to ever have kids,
to take a moment,
if it had been a hard day,
to watch them sleep.
She said doing so
would melt the day’s struggles
back into love.
At eighteen or so
I was surprised to learn
that sometimes
she needed such moments
with me.
In that moment
I saw her as a person,
not just Mom.
And I saw a new window
into all the ways she loved me.
For she was more than just my mom
and still she loved me.
****
After the divorce
I still had to spend
every other Saturday night
at my father’s house
even though I didn’t want to.
I slept on the couch
in the living room.
On occasion
I would wake
to him standing there
camera in hand.
I always hated
when he took pictures of me,
but those were always the worst.
Never indecent,
and yet
I felt over exposed.
I am glad he’s dead.
***
You know what?
The phrase “sleep like a baby”
is some straight up
Bullshit.
My oldest did not sleep
in any sort of reliable way
for the first fifteen months of her life.
I thought I was going to die.
from sleep deprivation
and uncertainty
and the anxiety
of never knowing
when
or for how long
I might be able to be more
than just Mom
and escape back into myself
while she slept.
***
The younger one,
born on the larger side,
always slept just fine.
Of course I don’t have a favorite,
but I was healed
by his easy sleep.
***
And now,
here I am
a mother myself,
and sometimes I can’t help
but grab my phone
to take a picture of each
before I wake them up for school.
They are unspeakably beautiful
in that moment
at the threshold
between sleep
and morning.
I’m glad I take after my mother.