For my son
It was antibacterial soap
That led me back to those days
When you first graced my world
With your presence
My job is anything but sentimental
Stocking cold steel
Abrasives and harsh
Tools men use to cut things off
Weld this to that
Make broken things work again
I wash my hands of course
Before I leave that wretched place
And as I drive toward home again
My face often rests upon hand
Or fingers trace lips
As I drift in thought
Wherever she takes me
Today the scent of soap on my hands
found its way to my senses
And I found myself
Quite suddenly five years back
In the hospital
Washing my hands vigorously
Under scalding hot water before entering
The sterile room which housed
Your incubator
Watching your tiny chest rise and
Fall with your labored breaths
Pumping and freezing food
For my sweet baby boy
Born three months early
Before the baby shower that never happened
Before the stretchmarks that never formed
Before your lungs were ready
I had prayed
Dear God let him stay inside
Just one more day
Just one more day
By His providence
And your stubborn insistence
My request did not find fulfillment
I remember visiting
Watching and waiting
Hoping for a week's stability
Such was required
If you were to go
Home before Christmas
~~~
You are now
Nearly five years old
Healthy
Happy
Whole
And I am driving home with you
Lodged firmly in my heart
Trickling down my face as I remember
Suddenly
The simplest things are sacred
Even the scent of soap on my hands
The simplest things are sacred
Even the scent of soap on my hands
1 comment:
I love it. Smells are so evocative.
Post a Comment