When It Changed, It Changed to Summer

It was hungry.

It was numbed toes and fingers,

snow and rain soaking through a sleeping bag and clothes.

It was yelling and shouting,

muttering under breath.

The wide, rounded memories of a raised hand

coming down sharp.

It was demands to be different

and less “other.”

It was childhood.

It was family.

It was being a teenager.

And it was nothing you didn’t know for yourself.

When it changed, it changed to summer.

You were there, and it changed.

It was warmer. It was kinder.

It was a 16th birthday present

and board games with your friends.

It was driving for fun until we were too tired to keep going.

It was poetry supplies,

and teaching you memes and jokes you didn’t understand,

and you staying up late watching scary TV with me

even though it was a work night.

It was childhood.

It was family.

It was being a teenager.

It was sacrifice and hardship,

but this time not on my part.

When it changed again, it was fall.

It was colder, a bit.

And it was being an adult.

But it was fine.

It was stronger.

Healthy.

It was confidence and security,

It was resting on a stronger foundation.

The winter became one of those things where you think

maybe you’re actually glad it happened,

because of what happened after it.

Now it’s appreciation,

earnest and consistently humming in the front of my mind.

An ever growing understanding as I take in more world first-hand

of how much was given up for me.

A recognition made with warm eyes

of how differently time moves when you’re an adult,

how much less of it there is

and how much you gave to me anyway.

Right now it’s love.

And a thank you.