Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Living


We sit in the living room on the couch with nothing but the glow of the street light from across the street to partially illuminate the room. I hum a little song to myself, remembering the melody she used to sing to me. A nighttime comfort when impatience seems to fill my days.

I get lost in the tune, reliving sitting on a lap and getting a strong, loving hug from arms too long buried in yesteryear. I wiggle with barretted braids swinging happily about, and I dance obliviously to the pain my increasingly heavy frame is causing older, frailer bones. Her graying eyes whisper “I love you,” even though I know they can’t see me like they used to, and I feel a tear fall gently onto my cheek. The seeming suddenness of emotion catches me off guard, and I am back in the present with the snores of a husband reassuringly safeguarding our home.

Then I look down at you, squirming in an ever shrinking womb, and I begin to hum once more. You stretch and settle, and I wonder if you know how much I long to meet you. How much I long to love you like the best people have loved me.

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2 thoughts on “Waiting

  1. Thank you, for both the comment and encouragement! 🙂

  2. Anonymous on said:

    I love the piece, Motherhood is fun and doing the things you want in the time it take to raise the children, keep up the good work.

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