A Hope and Prayer for My Future Child
Dear child,
I hope that I can love you enough
To make up for
Roommates who eat your food without asking
And computers that shut down without warning
And storms that can wipe out an entire city
Without blinking
And fires that can leave an entire countryside
Covered in ash and half-melted picture frames
I hope I can love you enough to
Make up for
The day when you’ll wake up
To the news of another school shooting
Or terrorist attack
And instead of the familiar drop in your stomach
The expected sting of surprised tears
Your first thought will be hollow:
Not another one.
And you’ll dread the flood of
Opinion pieces and
Facebook statuses and the
Eerie silence after all the talking when
Nothing has actually changed
I hope I can love you enough to balance out
The pain of your first pet’s death
And the glass shards of mental illness
Woven into your DNA
The dark, yawning pits of depression
With sides so smooth you feel like you’ll
Never climb out
I hope that I can love you enough to make up for
Those times when you feel like you have to fake a laugh
And for those late hours in bed
When you’re staring at the ceiling
And wondering
Is this all there is?
I hope that I can
Love you enough to make up for
The time you’ll forget your friend’s birthday
And the moment
When you first realize that you are a liar
Or that you were cruel
When you could have been kind
I hope I can love you enough that
When old age comes for you
And you are lying in a bed filled with memories and goodbyes
You will look into your past
And know
I was loved.
