“The first thing you hope
is to not crash . . .
The second
is to feel you did reasonably well
So I succeeded in both of those,”
he says,
a smile escaping,
releasing a few of the
giddy little bubbles that are rising up
making him feel light.
The scores corroborate;
something shifts and settles,
and he stands more solidly.
I too feel something –
a long, slow release –
no need to worry for my son:
grow in peace.
He won’t be tilting up his head in pride,
his hair in practiced affect tossed
nor crying in a bathroom stall
his dreams in shards, his prospects lost.
He’ll walk in long-legged, languid stride
towards his desired profession
He’ll find his way in his own time
My task: maintain connection.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 30, 2011