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image by deegolden |
The
weird Y at W Bostian Rd reminds me of the little house we rented when we were young
and living on love. When I drive it I
think of our oldest son slicing his thumb with a razor blade in that garage trying
to cut into a tennis ball to see the “guts.”
That afternoon I was pushing his little brother in one of those kiddie cars in
front of the house when he came out to me, blood dripping from his hand, a
brave and amused smile on his face. I
took him inside to survey the damage. I
admit I had to sit because the room was spinning. And it hasn’t stopped. I suppose it never will. We’ve added two more sons and each have
gotten cut badly enough to have stitches, but I’ll never get used to seeing
them bleed. So on this day of memory and honoring I say a prayer for the
mothers who have had to endure so much more.
memorial day
a mother’s heart
unstitched
© 2014 Jennifer
Wagner
For dVerse: Meeting the Bar-the haibun, a combination of
prose and haiku.
What a great way to put a memory into a greater story.. Myself I remember fainting when I cut myself.. Good your son didn't that.. I could easy see a scene of mother and son both having passed out cold. Great haiku to see those other thoughts.
ReplyDeleteVery touching and excellent haibun..ahhhh..
ReplyDeletemy son hurt himself a million times when he was a kid - just because he was so wild and totally fearless... i had many a times to sit down or take him to the doctor or hospital - but i hope i will never see him bleed on a battlefield.. a very moving write...
ReplyDeleteIt bleeds a mother's heart to sacrifice for the nation but she does not cry alone. Wonderful haibun Jennifer!
ReplyDeleteHank
wonderful. boys will be like that...always getting busted up...my oldest crashed through a fence at eight, my youngest too a dive shen he was riding his bike atop a wall...stitches each of them...there are those who have to bury their sons...and that breaks my heart.
ReplyDeleteA very moving write indeed. Returns memories to me of how we hurt for our children, however old they are.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
I get squeamish when I see blood on my children from rough playing ~ But I love the way you recall a memory and tie the haiku to memorial day ~ A mother's heart unstitched, beautiful ending !
ReplyDeleteOh wow this really puts things in perspective doesn't it? Oh and how this reminds me of the endless times I cut myself as a little boy while on my latest "adventure" lol.
ReplyDeleteSo many grand sacrifices from those fallen and their families. I love the story; and the haiku will stay with me awhile.
ReplyDeletePowerful. I can't imagine what military parents and spouses go through when their children go off to war.
ReplyDeleteSo very heartfelt. We do need always to remember those who have fallen and all the families of military personnel who pray and wait.
ReplyDeleteThis is really beautifully done.
ReplyDeleteThe poem is the perfect conclusion to your prose. Very nicely done.
ReplyDeletevery nice tribute for memorial day...stiches are kind of ok but saying good bye is very hard..
ReplyDeleteTouching, Jennifer. So important not to forget.
ReplyDeleteI like your haibun/haiku - gave me goosebumps. What a great twist here:
ReplyDelete"I admit I had to sit because the room was spinning. And it hasn’t stopped."
May the wounds and the bleeding be minimal as possible.
Oh my... so lovely. I love the idea that the room never stopped spinning. And so it must be for all the mothers who have lost sons and daughters. A beautiful piece.
ReplyDeleteThis really pulled at my heartstrings, Jennifer. A sensitive empathetic piece.
ReplyDeleteA touching write.
ReplyDeletePerfection; the heart unstitched... emotions set free. Heartfully written! _m
ReplyDeleteI could see it and feel woozy reading your poem! Parents go there-whoa~
ReplyDeleteGreat job, Jenn!
I hope we see less trauma in their futures~
What an excellent and subtle way to celebrate Memorial Day. So many have bled for all of us that all our mothers' hearts should be somewhat unstitched and thankful.
ReplyDeletejanet
Lovely take on the prompt. I like how you transcended your own experience to see the lot of the other mothers.
ReplyDelete