Sweet Pea
Good night, sweet pea. Sleep tight,
I call
Through her closed door.
Good night, she replies
With sleepy nonchalance.
I shuffle down the hall to bed,
Another page torn
From the calendar
Of our time together,
Which is growing thinner and thinner.
I picture cells dividing in her sleep
As she grows
From child to adult.
Way too old for the sweet pea talk
But she doesn’t seem to mind too much.
Only a few short years
Until this youngest one leaves home.
I am familiar with the inevitable by now,
Fully aware that I can’t slow time.
Her destination will be unique,
Full of her own dreams,
But in the end,
There will be her empty bed,
A room full of leftovers
And a heavy but proud heart
As I let go
Of this last little pea
In the pod.
By Maria Brady-SMith
Photo by Mike Smith
Happy Mother’s Day! This poem goes out to mothers in all phases of this life long vocation. It was written a few years back about my youngest daughter, who graduated from college yesterday. I have always said that parenting is a process of slowly letting go. Of course, the part that keeps us up at night is not knowing when to hold on and when and how much to let go of someone so precious to us. That is why we need to empathize with and encourage each other along the way.
Thanks for another great poem, (and photo,) and happy mother’s day to you, Maria.
Thank you, Paul!!
Thank you Maria for your words.
Happy late Mother’s Day, to a fab one…..indeed.
Susan
Hope you had a happy day, too, and got to enjoy that little grandgirl!