I hold babies now.
Every Saturday night
at a late time for me.
I hold them
and I hum
and I pat
and I take in what they are feeling
often too early
into the world.
And as I pat them
and place my chin
gently upon their head
I wish them a good life
that is starting
with love.
I am wishing them
understanding
patience
and laughter.
I want them to know
the right amount
of discomfort
in order to work
and grow
while someone looks on
encouragingly.
There are so many teenagers
that I work with
that I volunteer with
that I have helped raise
that I have taught.
And I love them
whole-heartedly
and I imagine
they could be
the babies in my arms,
late in the evening.
Listening to machines
whirring
and whimpers
and soothing
all around me
I think
if I just held you
when you were small.
If I had just chased away
all your bad dreams-
even if they were
in the shape
of your very family
maybe
you could have had
the ease
you deserve
or the chance
to see
better choices.
Maybe I could have
done more
sooner.
And then I hear
my mom tell me
that I don’t have to be a part
of everything.
Essentially
why do I insist on
inserting myself as the
One in someone else's life.
And I don’t mean to.
I am not the hero.
I am just the side character
wandering through the story
wondering who needs a hug.
Because I am not done hugging
yet.
My heart fills my chest
when I think a child
needs
more love.
Its only remedy is
to give it.
I have been
praised for it.
I have been
accused of it.
It's just
I have never been
more sure
of what my role is
for my time
in the world.
As I walked through
the ER last Saturday night
a very thin
a very disheveled
a very old man
was sitting there
either waiting for his turn
to be seen
or just finding a break
from the cold.
He called out
”Hello, there!”
and I turned to him
as if he called my name.
I said
“Good evening”
into
his eyes
and kept walking
through the double doors
to get to the elevators.
As the doors slowly closed
behind me
I heard him say
“Well wasn’t that nice.
And on Valentine’s Day”
and I thought
I am going to go hold you
upstairs
when you were a baby.
And I am going
to use
my love
to hope
for wonderful things
in your life.
