A letter to my children...

on the occasion of Bubbles of Love Day...

“To my children:
I never imagined that when you were given to me by God that I wouldn’t see the best of times with you, for I was there for the worst of your times, the falls, the mistakes, the faux pas, and the foibles. As your first teacher, I took what I was given and tried to mold you, letting your come-what-may traits do as they will, but loving you through the struggle. Your father and I - we made beautiful people - and that was special. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I have always, will always, and never have stopped loving you. You were the hope for the world, the love that would continue on to fuel the world. You still are. I watch on the sidelines as you dance in the spotlight, becoming your own, and continuing to be beautiful people. As I was, on your birth, not so silently waiting-in-the-wings perhaps, I remain today - still and in awe of God’s creation and gifts to me. I will always and forever be - your mother.”
“The Light Gatherer” by Carol Ann Duffy
When you were small, your cupped palms
each held a candleworth under the skin, enough light to begin,
and as you grew,
light gathered in you, two clear raindrops
in your eyes,
warm pearls, shy,
in the lobes of your ears, even always
the light of a smile after your tears.
Your kissed feet glowed in my one hand,
or I'd enter a room to see the corner you played in
lit like a stage set,
the crown of your bowed head spotlit.
When language came, it glittered like a river,
silver, clever with fish,
and you slept
with the whole moon held in your arms for a night light
where I knelt watching.
Light gatherer. You fell from a star
into my lap, the soft lamp at the bedside
mirrored in you,
and now you shine like a snowgirl,
a buttercup under a chin, the wide blue yonder
you squeal at and fly in,
like a jewelled cave,
turquoise and diamond and gold, opening out
at the end of a tunnel of years.

Author

Jill Miesen - alienated mother