Thursday, September 03, 2015

My Glass Child - Part II






my glass child




I saw her today:
my glass child,
vying for my attention.

"Look at all of my certificates...
swimming...
star pupil..."

...

"Where will I put them?"

On my bed; I have a folder somewhere...

"Can I put them in now please?"

...

"Mum, PLEASE?"

And then I lost it,
tired and stressed,
anxious to make it to
8.30am:
heart racing,
head pounding...

NOT NOW!
I HAVE A HEADACHE!
SHE'S (Eilidh) DRIVING ME BONKERS!
I'VE STILL TO GET HER ON THE TOILET!
I'VE STILL TO GET HER DRESSED!
I'VE STILL TO LIFT HER INTO HER CHAIR!
THE BUS WILL BE HERE SOON;
WE ONLY HAVE 10 MINUTES...
NOT NOW!
PLEASE...
NOT NOW!

She skulked away -
quiet,
tears in her eyes -
as I, once again,
focused on her sister;
to her I'm always focusing on her sister.

School mornings are hard;
so very, very hard.
From the moment I get up,
until the moment the school bus leaves,
I seem to hold my breath,
rushing through what needs to be done,
caring for one,
encouraging the other.
Finally,
I breath
and 
relax.
My shoulders soften,
my mind calms.
It is done.
They have gone.
I have done enough;
until home time
when the caring
and encouraging continues.

And I worry:
my glass child is fragile
and breakable.