Crawling Back to the Light
A Mother’s Quiet Labour of Love
An exhausted, rundown mother,
sick for days,
emerges from a hazy fog
of survival mode.
Her hair, greasy and stringy,
hangs limply around her face.
Nose red, eyes puffy.
Clutching the soggy
remnants of a tissue.
She climbs a pile of washing,
scales a mountain of dishes.
No words on the page,
her pen poised,
where to begin?
Nevertheless, her son is thriving,
still loved and nurtured.
All her energy she pours into him.
The scraps left,
she scrounges up for herself,
to slowly crawl her way
back to the light.
About the Creator
Sandy Gillman
I’m a mum to a toddler, just trying to get through the day. I like to write about the ups and downs of parenting. I’m not afraid to tell it like it is. I hope you’ll find something here to laugh, relate to, and maybe even learn from.
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Comments (13)
Vividly portrayed… the never ending demands of motherhood, especially of youngsters. Hope you’re getting some respite currently.🤗
She's doing so much and so well, someone should make sure she's thriving too. Hopefully now she's on the light, it's gonna be so❤She's doing such a great job juggling with all these roles! ;)
Excellent work Sandy! I hope you feel better soon!
Wow, what a strong image! I wrote a story about having a flu this past winter. In just 21 lines, you conveyed more than I did in almost 1300 words!
Welcome back to the light. What a great way to express it.
YOU are an inspiration!
Go girl..more power to you my god sandy your words are always so inspirational and such a learning from your real life experiences. Just love what you share always. @Sandy Gillman
Sandy, hugs...the smiles and hugs from the little one will make it worth the while.
🌹💖
Gosh Sandy, it must have been extremely exhausting. I don't know how you managed it but by some miracle you did. Hope you feel better soon. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️
🩵❤️🥰
I can only imagine how hard it is to be a mother, let alone when illness strikes. The struggle comes through harshly in this poem.
You know, everything you mentioned and listed before the clutching of the soggy remnants of tissue. Are the things that makes a woman, a mother, beautiful. I am not glorifying burnout, or even the act of working too hard. But simply, the side of us that does not represent what the world would prefer. Because some days we can't do it. We can't look perfect. Back to the light you will crawl. Even with the scraps left. You're the most beautiful when you're holding your son in your arms. Fantastic work as always mama! 🤗❤️