Thursday, January 12, 2017

Friendship Day

You won't remember the day
when you gave me that card.
Thick and colorful marker lines
surrounding a round bellied stick figure.
Happy Friendship Day! you said.
written in the unmistakable handwriting
of my firstborn son, 
I warned you I would cry happy tears,
as I tucked the card into the side pocket
of the cooler where I stored
the empty bottles that I'd pump in that day.
You won't remember the day
when you reminded me that I'm not
screwing this all up;
that day in January,
my second day back to work
after my 3rd and final maternity leave.
With twisty, mixed up emotions,
I looked at that card all day,
willing myself to believe that despite
my early separation from my babies,
they were fine, more than fine,
surrounded by a network of people
who love them like their own.
You won't remember the day,
that you, newly 6,
gave me the confidence to go back to work,
to take on the day and its challenges,
to come home to you, your brothers and your dad,
knowing that beyond simply not screwing it up,
I was actually, amazingly, doing it right.
I will always remember the day,
you told me I was your friend.