No One Told Me

If they had told me being a mom would hurt this bad,
I wouldn’t have done it.
I would have refrained from the urge to create,
the urge to love even just a little.
If they had told me the truth,
that watching him make mistakes I’m sure I made
when I was his age and having no way
of convincing him to take another path,
I would have gone another path myself.
If they had told me that my heart would feel so broken,
so scared from the knowledge that I am so helpless,
if they had told me that I would feel like such a failure,
such a moron for thinking
I could teach a small child to be something more
than what the world holds us down to become,
if I had known it would tear me to pieces
seeing him mentor up to someone
who has no care in the world whether he lives or dies,
to listen to idiots and toss my words aside like used tissue.
My god, no one told me it would hurt this bad.
It’s not the hurt of disappointment, although that does hurt,
it’s the hurt of knowing that all the years are gone
and a single moment, a single person, a single act
can take away all that time and make it into nothing.
Each year that goes by, I love him more,
and every moment he says “I know what I’m doing mom”
makes me feel so small and insignificant,
like he truly thinks I’m a joke.
Oh I know he loves me… he has told me so…
but as with my own departure from my mother’s home
comes the revelation of how much I must have hurt her
when I left and didn’t look back for so many years.
I visited, I called… so infrequently…
and it wasn’t until I grew up…
really grew up and watched my own son leave
that I turned around one day to find my mother
had become my grandmother
and the passage of years turned my heart to mush.
She will be gone one day and I will be alone, without her,
and I am left wondering if my own son
will feel this way or if I will simply vanish
and be nothing more than a forgotten memory.
Heaven help me, I hate this moment,
the moment when my child leaves and does not need me
and my own mother walks closer and closer
to a door I cannot keep closed.
The only thing that keeps me going
is knowing that one day my son will return to me
because it is still me that he comes to
when he needs a hug or a shoulder to cry on.
I suppose I am just feeling alone
and filled with self pity knowing that one day
my own mother’s shoulder will be gone
and how then can I cry upon my son’s shoulder,
it would not seem fair
but perhaps it will be necessary.
September 17, 2011