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My Discovery

The house had sold; we had to move
And pack up all our stuff;
The attic task was given me.
Mom said it wasn’t tough.

The musty smell and cluttered mess
Made cleaning up a chore,
Until I found, tucked far in back,
Two boxes marked “Lenore.”

I opened wide the memories –
All filled with mother’s things,
Like costume clothes and baby dolls,
Like pearls and plastic rings.

And from the bottom of the box
I pulled out a photo book;
I settled on a nearby chair
So I could take a look.

What struck me as I drank them in
Was how happy mother seemed –
That picture of the pony ride
Where mother’s smile beamed.

Dad passed away when I was five
And Mom took on both roles;
She had to set aside her dreams
And focus on our goals.

So rarely did we see her smile
Or laugh and have some fun,
Far too many memories,
Too much to be done.

I tried to empathize with her,
Tried not to make her mad,
But often, understandably,
My mom was rather sad.

So looking through her past today –
At pictures of her youth,
At ballet shoes, now faded pink,
I learned a simple truth.

That long before my father died
Before her troubles grew,
When hand games settled arguments,
Mom was a child too.

40 lines

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