Tuesday, June 27, 2006

A long wait for someone waiting impatiently (poem)

There he sat, on the subway, across from me
with his little girl, who looked about 3
A sippy cup of apple juice
Cheerios in a bag, so they wouldn't get loose
And a bag of fresh blueberries--I was glad
to see her share them with her dad
(And I was also glad to see
No junk food or soda for this girl--yippee!
Just two small cookies, or one big one
Or half a bar of chocolate daily for our son
to keep the "forbidden-fruit blues" away
while keeping rotting teeth at bay--
And so, today, at 23,
he's never had a cavity
And calls us from the university
Saying, "Don't buy any junk food for me
I've been eating far too much of it lately."
It really, truly warms my heart
to know I've raised a son so smart)

He sat with a notebook, pen in hand
and drew a letter A, big and grand
to entertain his little girl
then asked her to draw for him, so she drew a swirl
Absentmindly, he stroked her hair and back
And I was transported many years back
To the days when that was my husband and son
Reading together, playing baseball, having fun
When we watched "Star Trek" as a family
And rode the subways together, we three
On the way home from visiting friends
Where parents talked and children stayed
growing up together, and laughed and played
Then, on the subway, Mom--yours truly,
entertained the boychik with a Bible story
("Reuven, poor soul, just stood there in shock.
Stunned and shaken, taking stock.
'I thought the only thing we'd find here was bread!
What do you mean, "Sold into slavery?"
And all these years, I thought he was dead!
How could you do that? You never told me!")
We thought those days would never end

Now I look at the little ones
And want the same for, and from, my son

It's true, just as the young lady said
in that conversation that I overheard

There's a drawback to having waited for kids 'til I was ready
When you're an older grandparent, your legs aren't so steady
I was 34 when we had our son
His father, poor soul, was 41
(That wasn't his choice, I really must add--
he wanted to be a younger dad
But I was chicken, yessiree
So the poor man had to wait for me)
If the young'un waits 'til his dad's age, too
His poor old pop will be 82!
At that age, what can a "gramps" still do?
I guess we're going to specialize in reading books
(Well, with my skills, I sure can't teach them to cook!)
Maybe Saba CPA will teach them to add
Now there's an idea that's not half bad!
And I'll retell all my Bible stories
To the next bunch of little morning glories
To a little growing girl
who's her parents' precious pearl
To a little growing boy
who's his parents' pride and joy
Someday, a long while down the line
I hope, eventually, it'll be our time
I'm ready now, I don't want to wait
But I started late, so that's my fate



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