We went to Wyatt and Seth’s school tonight for the Reading Cafe. Wyatt’s teacher, Mr. Bow (who is a rock star in Wyatt’s eyes – and not far behind that with Miska and me), had each kid record a poem they had written. When I heard Wyatt’s voice, well, I don’t think I can describe it.
The last paragraph tells a million stories. Wyatt has struggled much with fear, particularly this past year. We’ve been with him, held him, slept by his bed (and in his bed – and him by our bed) many nights. We’ve gotten frustrated, reached – and been pushed over (far over) – our limit, yelled more than we should.
But there it was in print, that last line – “She would always come.” You wonder if your kids ever know how much they are loved, if they have any idea of the tenacity of your devotion for them and your commitment to all things good for them. You wonder if they know that they can relax in this world because our heart is on guard for them, all the time, every moment. Miska choked down a few tears tonight, listening in on the gift Wyatt gave her (and us).
“I guess he gets it,” Miska said. I guess he does.
Burning Silver and Gold
My mom told me I was born in the night
When I was walking up the wall
Her blood was my blood and
Her food was my food.
I was soaking in the sweet dreams,
Sleeping in the hospital.
The next morning
I was an inch taller and
I was growing…
My eyes were a burning silver and gold.
The next night I had a nightmare,
I called, “Mamma.”
She would always come.