My body is...

My mom and me, 1967

My body is an extension of you.
Birthed from your young, teenaged womb.
Tiny, unprepared, barely protected -
your womb, you, me.

Sometimes I wonder why I came
a month early.
Was it to find you a more compatible zodiac
sign, or my impatience to incarnate?
What if it was simply to mark your first
wedding anniversary, somehow sanctifying
a marriage that was destined to dissolve?

And the singleness of you.
Always independent. Ever fierce.
Your red hair making its claim to righteousness
and war.
Sometimes I find red strands in my own
blanket of brown.

I once had it colored, accidentally way too
much red... too much like you in my mirror.
I rejected it.

And, I know, as horrid as it is, I
often rejected you.
Your too much-ness invaded my blossoming.
Or so I believed.

And, as teens do, I began my withdrawal
and rejection to find and forge self.
My body. My mind. My being.

Yet ever an extension of you.

And the pride swells. It swells in my
eyes with sentimental tears. It swells
in my voice as stories of you unfold
with great animation.

And from our bodies, our lineage,
came your grandchildren.

All reflections of you. That fire, that
strength, that ability to dream
the impossible dream!

They remember you with fondness.
You were - and are - their third parent,
more than just a grandmother.

In my body - our body - a tightness
takes hold, emphatically keeping the
grief at bay.

I know I cry your tears, too, as that
was never comfortable for you.
Vulnerability was not welcome in
your body, so you secluded to the
practicality of your mind.

But your heart created my heart and I
feel it beating on our behalf. Your
love was - is - always so palpable.

I breathe. Soften my jaw.
We don't need to clench anymore.

I am discovering safety in my body, hoping
to heal generational trauma.

It is not always easy.

Being an extension of you - in my body -
is not always easy.

But it is beautiful.
​
So, like you, I adorn it. Clothing
that comforts, flatters and expresses
me. My style. All my own, yet
a sweet reflection of you.

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