the day i ran after you
chased you down, really, down the street, two blocks, then three
hollow-tipped holes filling my heart as you became child,
and i, mother.
we both raced the ghosts that lived in your memory
and you ran faster so much faster so much faster and
i couldn’t tell you that i would protect you because
i didn’t understand that i was too short too young too innocent
to see even the tiniest glimpse of the demons you saw
coming on just over my shoulder.
in the end, it was you who talked like a child
me that patted shoulders and calmed as best i could
though inside my brain was screaming
stop and i
couldn’t find my way out of the forest we’d just entered
having forgotten to leave the trail of crumbs
that would lead us back to
before
and by the time you returned
to being you
the you
i thought i knew
i was someone completely
other.
.
.
.
April 10th, 2012 at 9:38 am
This is just heartbreaking. It perfectly describes the devastating role reversals of parents and children.
April 10th, 2012 at 9:39 am
My heart aches with the power of this post.
April 10th, 2012 at 9:45 am
Nothing I’ve ever read has described this loss so poignantly. xo
April 10th, 2012 at 11:38 am
oh my…deeply moving…so hard when the roles change and the kids feel like or really have to take care of the parents..this is so tough..and you captured it so masterfully with the forest image and all..
April 10th, 2012 at 11:43 am
Heartbreaking and powerful. xo.
April 10th, 2012 at 12:20 pm
I’m frightened and mesmerized.this is beautiful and heart wrenching.
April 10th, 2012 at 12:58 pm
i, too, am “other” now.
as usual, mrs. m~ exquisite. xo
April 10th, 2012 at 2:03 pm
So moving and it hurts my heart.
April 10th, 2012 at 2:14 pm
quite the journey you took us on in this…got a bit of a taste of it when my mom broke her leg and caring for her as she healed…those role reversals are def hard in many ways…many we dont expect until it gets here…
April 10th, 2012 at 3:39 pm
Really well-written… and so very beautiful.
April 10th, 2012 at 4:01 pm
This is such a chilling piece. I find these lines particularly strong and haunting:
“we both raced the ghosts that lived in your memory”
“inside my brain was screaming
stop and i”
“i couldn’t tell you that i would protect you because i didn’t understand that i was too short too young too innocent to see even the tiniest glimpse of the demons you saw”
“i was someone completely
other”
April 10th, 2012 at 4:10 pm
This is so wonderfully written…and the emotional content so transparent and strong. There isn’t a line that doesn’t stand out, and the ending…wow!
April 10th, 2012 at 4:25 pm
Lordy, this made my heart break. Wide open.
April 10th, 2012 at 4:48 pm
Gosh…an intense write…something I can relate to. I’ve found it very tough being ‘mother’ to my mother….so sad….you’ve captured it well, here Kelly.
April 10th, 2012 at 4:49 pm
Sublime; every facet, sublime.
Pulitzer heartstrings
April 10th, 2012 at 4:52 pm
What a beautiful, emotionally charged piece. Could not pick my favourite line if I tried, every line is a killer.
April 10th, 2012 at 5:16 pm
i, too, patted the shoulders, held the hands, whispered the’motherly’ words of comfort to her, while inside my whole being screamed. you have managed to write it so perfectly, that last journey. a sad one. it tortures me yet.
tilda
April 10th, 2012 at 5:30 pm
This was beautiful, sad. It made me think of my daughter. Parenting – what a chase.
April 10th, 2012 at 5:34 pm
This made me cry. It was me and my dream mother, loving me enough to chase after me. So beautiful and innocent. Your love is amazing. You saw her ghosts, her demons. I’d kill for a mother like that.
April 10th, 2012 at 5:38 pm
… enjoyed the trail of crumbs
April 10th, 2012 at 5:53 pm
hit me really hard with this one… my mom has been sick most of my life & I have to take of her, wipe her tears and make sure she knows everything will be okay… I’m still a kid myself, but I’ve felt like a parent many, many times…
April 10th, 2012 at 6:30 pm
My girl massaged my temples last night to comfort me in her way through my headache. I received the pats, and was grateful.
beautiful poem on parent and child, Kelly.
xo
April 10th, 2012 at 7:02 pm
The idea of people and how they change is a great topic and one that you did a fantastic job of poeticizing here. Excellent read. Thanks
April 10th, 2012 at 7:19 pm
A fabulously written poem. The twist of horror, the unsettling shift in the balance between the two characters, all very well done. Works great with the photo, too.
April 10th, 2012 at 8:06 pm
This piece leaves me with that awful lump in my throat that comes just before the tears. Engaging write!
April 10th, 2012 at 8:08 pm
Heart wrenching–but it holds so much truth that I want to cry-
April 10th, 2012 at 9:19 pm
Not a word wasted, and not an extra word needed–you bring the emotions home, the wrongness, the life-changing pain, how pain always passes itself on and on, and how it changes us. I think many of us know what it’s like to be the adult before you even began to really be a child.Fine writing, as always here.
April 10th, 2012 at 11:28 pm
isn’t that how it works. when they finally appreciate us, we have moved on!!
messy little girl
April 11th, 2012 at 2:03 am
Really enjoyed this, thanks.
April 11th, 2012 at 9:34 am
wow- this stopped me in my tracks- this made me think about a relationship between a mother and daughter- with the forest being something of a metaphor for life or a life changing event. The way you wrote this was just beautiful- sometimes fractured- maybe pointing again to the realtionship between the two…i very VERY much enjoyed this- even if it made me feel a little sad
April 11th, 2012 at 9:45 am
I had to come back to this one to comment as role-reversal is a potent emotional issue personally which speaks to the power of your writing. In a way I had to sneak in sideways to bear it, magnificent work.
April 11th, 2012 at 3:22 pm
I lived this, and yet I don’t believe I could have written it. Amazing stop/go and time passage contained in your form as much as in your choice of words. Stunning for me, and almost heart stopping.
April 11th, 2012 at 5:31 pm
Reminds me of my family’s struggle when my grandmother’s mental acuity started to deteriorate. What a tough situation.
April 11th, 2012 at 9:06 pm
well, at first i thought i was having a heart attack, then i realized it was your poem that took my breath away.
April 11th, 2012 at 10:22 pm
god. “having forgotten to leave the trail of crumbs
that would lead us back to
before.” you made me cry. not sobby sloppy tears but tears full of wishes and questions and why didn’t i’s.
you are a gift.