Emily (middle) with her sisters, Victoria (left) and Melissa (right) on the evening we celebrated Emily's last birthday as Miss Emily. Next year she is hoping to be Mrs.
It slams, like a wave on my back
Unexpectedly; its pain
A Realization of what will never
Come to pass
Again
Surely love should don calluses
But its pain is raw and keen
I've learned by heart its ache
In give-and-take
Routine
And suddenly, unexpectedly
Like a wave’s stinging smack
I feel the grief of disbelief
In what I can never have
Back
© Janet Martin
I am constantly being hit with the realization that life as I knew it is over soon. The, 'this is the last first day of summer with our whole family living at home... this is the last time the peonies will bloom before the wedding... this is the last time...it goes on and on, But, love adapts with change!(and most of our 'lasts' we do not recognize; most of our 'lasts' we do not know)
Another realization I am admitting to, is that no matter how
often I say ‘Use the closet!’ they will never use the closet. While I was writing this poem I tripped on some shoes on my way to the laundry room...
Luckily our lasts become firsts, too, like one day the first grandchild - something to look forward to, isn't it? :-)
ReplyDelete:) YES! thank-you for your glass half-full view-point!
ReplyDeleteI remember the feelings you describe so well, but Happy Amateur is right. There is much to look forward to!
ReplyDelete=)