“I love you, mom,” she said;
“I know you do,” I answered.
My thoughts became stepping stones,
Leading down a path in my mind.
I remembered her youth;
Her first words, her first steps;
“Mama,” she babbled, holding chubby arms wide,
For me to pick her up.
Then she was leaving on the bus,
For the first day of school;
I stood in the driveway,
And watched the bus take my baby away.
“I think he likes me,” she smiled as she
Showed me his picture. “Isn’t he cute?”
I unwrapped her first purchased gift in pink wrapping paper;
A bottle of perfume for my birthday.
She smiled and waved as she got behind the wheel
Of her first car, honking the horn as she left.
“I’m pregnant,” her voice cracked
On the other end of the phone.
I heard the cries of my first grandchild
As I watched her being born;
I held my granddaughter, marveling at her
Soft cheeks and perfect little fingers and toes.
I took the gift from my daughter.
My grandchild looked up at me and smiled.
“I love you too,” I said softly.
“Happy Mother’s Day.”