Parenting
My eyes lock with
His, the scowl on his
Small face takes my heartbeat,
My blood pressure,
So high I can feel it
Throbbing in my ears. I want
To scream and shout, and
As I open my mouth,
I feel the same scowl
Plastered on his face,
Stretched taut across
Mine. Him reflecting me.
I see his eyes hard,
Like mine. His lips pursed,
Like mine. His hands clenched,
Like mine. Like mine. Like me.
All that makes me angry in
Him, I see first in me.
It’s everywhere in me
I want to scream,
Claw at my chest and tear,
Rip my own self out
Of my parenting, I wonder
If I could be a perfect
Parent, would he be
A perfect child?
I want to cry, scream,
Wail again, but not in
Frustration. This time
I want to scream from
Sadness, despair, hopelessness.
I can never be who
I am asking my child
To be. What can I do?
What. Can. I. Do?
My breathing tears, burns
Sharp and painful inside.
But truth rises in me
Like a trumpet,
Like a song sung to
Summon hope.
I cannot make him perfect, partly
Because I cannot be perfect.
But I can teach him
Humility. Asking forgiveness.
Self awareness. Admitting
Failure and getting up to
Try again. I can teach him
Dependence
On God. And hope
For change and growth beyond
His own capacity. I can
Teach him all this because
I can live all this.
I can live humility and
Forgiveness and dependence.
Grace and honesty and
Self-awareness and hope in
Someone greater than myself.
I can teach him, what I can
Live myself. And I am not
Able to live perfection, but
I can live grace and hope and
Humility and surrender. So
My eyes lock his
Softening to meet his iron
Gaze, and I relax.
Apologize. No but.
It’s just there, the offer,
The apology for
Him to accept or not.
A going first.
He can make his
Choice. I have made mine, and
I pray he will follow.
- Alesha Sinks
Beautiful, raw, and real!