Thursday, March 11, 2010
As I held my baby in the hospital, a poem from years ago
came to my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. At my father's condo, I
ransacked my storage boxes trying to find the booklet I had put together in
ninth grade. I knew I had to find it. And then I read these words; words I had
not read in ten years:
I knew these words were from my little Ty. He wants me
to know that if I am sad, he cannot truly be happy. My grief is his grief. But
he is ok. And he wants me to know that, so we all can be happy. I cannot tell
you how much comfort this poem has brought me. I have no doubt it was meant for
me to find, to remember, to understand. My baby is safe. And he is happy and
waiting for us.
"The Mother's Dream"
by William Barres
I'd a dream to-night
As I fell asleep,
Oh! the touching sight
Makes me still to weep;
Of my little lad,
Gone to leave me sad,
Aye, the child I had,
But was not to keep.
As in heaven high,
I my child did seek,
There, in train, came by
Children fair and meek,
Each in lily white,
With a lamp alight;
Each was clear to sight,
But they did not speak.
Then, a little sad,
Came my child in turn,
But the lamp he had,
Oh! it did not burn;
He, to clear my doubt,
Said, half turned about,
'Your tears put it out;
Mother, never mourn,'
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