Tomorrow is my first-born’s 21st birthday!
Many years ago now, I wrote a poem about my son, although the sentiments could be shared equally with my other children.
I look at you and wonder who you are sometimes.
You’ve grown so fast and I don’t yet feel old,
But here you are on the threshold:
One foot firmly planted in childhood,
The other tentatively poised in the land of adolescence.
I look at you and sometimes see a stranger,
A face familiar but not quite the way it used to be.
Your displays of maturity catch me unaware,
Leave me gaping like a fool.
When did you become so old and wise?
I look at you when you’re not looking back,
And I see glimpses of the child that you were,
Your face, hazel eyes, and thin-lipped smile.
I take your hand and my heart soars
For every second that you do not pull away.
I look at you in photos placed within a scrapbook,
And I fall in love with my baby once again.
I look at the boy you are now and count
The years until you find your feet beneath you,
Spread your wings and soar towards your dreams.