Daddy was supposed to call me as soon as she was out of surgery to let me know she came through okay. She went in at 12:00 p.m. He still hadn't called by 5:00, and I was beginning to get worried.
I went for a walk and sat down in a pine thicket to think and pray. For some reason, this poem emerged. I haven't written poetry since college. So here it is: It's called "Room #26"
My Mama's having surgery today.
Why doesn't Daddy call
And let me know how it went?
It's been hours...she should be
out by now.
What would I do without her?
Even though I'm getting old myself,
She's at the center; my life's beginning.
She who taught me so very, very much.
I'm still learning from her-Oh not so
much face to face anymore.
I remember now her reactions
and responses to things in her life.
Things misunderstood by me then...
But becoming clear now as I face
Those things too.
the birth of my firstborn, another child, grandchildren,
And getting first a son-in-law and then a daughter-in-law.
I find new levels of appreciation for my first mentor.
I should show her my love more, and I will.
The phone rings. My heartbeat quickens.
The screen says 'Daddy'.
"Hello," I say tensely. "Is she okay?"
"Fine," he says.
And I let out the breath
I didn't realize I'd been holding.