Half full

A poem

In honor of Mother’s Day, here’s a poem about my beautiful mama

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I tried to resent you so much growing up

I wanted to loathe the small things you did

The way you mixed foods together on your plate and how you sat on my bed in the mornings when you came home from a run 

I wanted to argue with you because I was stubborn and so were you and I wanted to be my own person and you just wanted love in a little girl

I never missed dinner because I told my friends my parents wanted me there every night

It never occurred to me that there wasn’t a punishment for being absent at the table one night, and that really, I was just making up consequences in my mind

So I could spend a few minutes with you every day

I tried to resent you because you were always strong

You had courage and more generosity than anyone I had or will ever meet and I wanted to see that in myself but never could measure up to you, nobody could

I was a kid, so I chose the smallest of details in you and the things you did to agonize over

I wanted to hide things from you because that’s what teenagers do, I wanted to separate our lives so that I could evolve into my own person

But it wasn’t until we lived in different states that I realized I wouldn’t be anywhere without you

I don’t believe in God, but I pray for you and dad in the chapel sometimes 

Someone told me we were starting to look alike and in high school I would’ve been angry 

now I’m ecstatic 

To look like the woman who has always been and will never cease to be equally stunning in every light

Your glass tends to be half full, and mine tends to be half empty, so every day you’d try to lend me some water, practically flooding the glass 

Somehow, you always had enough for me and everyone else around you

I hope your glass is still full

We went to Italy last summer and drank aperol spritz 

You bought some when we got home and we made drinks together and you gave me Jello shots 

leftover from a Christmas brunch to take to my New Year’s party at my best friends’ house

reminded me to be safe

You left sticky notes on my desk, inside books and in drawers 

reminded me of my strength

And laughed when you found a half opened beer in my closet from a night she’d slept over

I still find little pieces of you everywhere I go

Especially when the sun’s out, or when a breeze blows

Change is usually good, but this change just means 

I miss you

-B

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