Just Before Drifting
by Beth Klarreich Corwin

(a letter to my son)

you have been on this earth 2,495 days

you were conceived in my mind for much longer than that

he first time i played house at school and i was the mother......it was so long ago

i lie with you this hot summer eve waiting for sleep to embrace you and i wonder

what will be your cause of death? how many children will you have? and when will you lose your virginity?

your breathing becomes interrupted and as you catch yourself drifting you share one of your profound thoughts”Will we become extinct like the dinosaurs?”

how do i tackle this -feeling as if my grown-up mind holds no answers to these insightful questions - lines of wisdom often become blurry only for me to realize once again that you are my teacher, my guru

my end of day thoughts are more practical -did I leave clothes in the dryer? did I call my sister back? what time is my tennis date in the morning?

Your sense of time fills me with awe. how do you organize it?

Life before baby brother/ Life after baby brother.

How many art projects displayed? chapter books completed?

Mean mommy moments versus nice mommy moments

Giggles per day? tears per week?

You are an enigma yet i can read you so clearly

Your enthusiasm is so deep it is almost painful to observe

when you awake will you put on your Captain Hook costume to explore the underground, the nasty, the evil? or will you don your Peter Pan clothes proclaiming to never grow up but FLY FLY FLY, freedom being the only element of any importance

i lie there with you - connected so deeply yet such separate physical beings

i feel the complexities of our mother/eldest son relationship and know why i am so drawn to the ocean - the force and awesomeness of the tides, waves and patterns of t he water

you are a gift to the planet - you came through me but are not mine

i am blessed to be involved in this miracle called motherhood