Poetry Friday is hosted by Jama Rattigan at Jama’s Alphabet Soup
Packing up the house where one raised one’s children is a tricky business. This is what I’m discovering as I delve into closets, under beds, and through stacks of papers my three children have left behind in their journey from childhood to independence. School projects, English papers, love letters, knick knacks picked up on travels here and there…all the detritus of growing up and growing into the beautiful souls they are today. Some things I open up and then put away quickly in boxes labeled for each of my three, these are their private detritus, which they can choose to keep or toss away as their private selves dictate. Some things are just meant to be lingered over, revisited for the glimpses they provide for each child at some particular stage of their development.
Elizabeth’s AP English poetry project falls into this latter category. I never saw these poems or this booklet in real time. So, it was all the more meaningful to stumble upon it at this stage, the stage of packing up the home she grew up in. On the eve of Mother’s Day, I thought I’d share this relic of our past, where she pays homage to all the words we celebrated together when we lived together, and then creates something that is indelibly her own, as children are wont to do.