Saturday, June 14, 2014

Fifty

If you were to ask me what it is I want from life,
the jewels of a queen, or the apron of a housewife,
I'd go for the apron, without a shred of doubt,
and I would stick to it and never back out.

Because happiness is not proportional to money,
and you can smile even when it's not sunny.
Because there is no point in having it all,
if you go to bed at night with no one to call.

And I understand now, now that I can finally see,
what you had tried to tell me all those years ago,
when I was little and so I had plenty of time to grow,
when telling the time meant that it was still going slow.

Back when I whispered "Mum, I think I'm scared",
so you took my hand, looked into my soul, and cared.
Told me "I know. But life's not for the faint hearted.
It's for people who fall, get up, and get started."

And you're right, my emerald jewel, you're absolutely right.
We do not live forever but we can always shine bright.
Like the sparkle that still scintillates in your eyes,
the one that I am almost certain awakens the northern skies.

For you are why the stars align every night,
and why I know what I know so I hold on tight.
You are everything a wonderful woman should be,
and I will challenge anyone who does not agree.

You are more beautiful now than I can remember, more than
when I first opened my eyes that day in September.
You are the epitome of the perfect mum,
the real reason why we are who we've become.

Thank you for showing me the light when I was blind,
when kindness and hope and patience I could not find.
Thank you for looking at the world through an untainted lens,
for making me believe that life will always somehow make sense.

You are my fifty kinds of happiness, and I love you.

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