My Little Grapefruit

Mothers are supposed to carry this little bean in their uterus,

Until it becomes a plum,

And then a grapefruit.

And then if we are lucky a watermelon.

We go through all of the emotions, the sinking feelings, the fear and trepidation, the what-ifs, the excitement.

We wonder how you will look, who you will be.

We carry you, we watch you suckle at our breast. You are a tiny reflection of us.

We work hard to protect you and keep you safe.

And then we watch you get your first pair of shoes to walk, walk, walk away.

And then you come back running towards us, grabbing our legs in excitement...momma, momma,

With giggles and the sweetest little voice.

And now you’ve gained words of your own,

A personality,

You begin to draw, then write,

Have interests and ride a bike.

We grow together and have our own adventures,

And then you go off to a place where you need a backpack

And school supplies-

You walk into the building with your little lunch in your hand, maybe looking back with a wave if we’re lucky

and take a piece of my heart with you.

And then into places with lockers and combos,

The voice changes and the tone is more direct.

The opinions are strong and adults are usually always wrong, but there are glimmers of that sweet little one in there.

And then your own vehicle and card to drive it,

Your own wheels.

Your own ID, outside of me.

You are an adult now,

And I’m still here waiting for you to turn around

With that sweet little wave.