Forgiving Mother

Forgiving Mother

1920 1275 Kelly Belmonte

My son, seven years old (times seventy),
prays, “I forgive You for my sins.”
I suggest he means, “Please
forgive me for my sins,” emphasis
on Please and me, and he says,

“God knows what I meant”
and that is the end of that.

This child, I can tell already
he is forgiving me all I’m not,
all my ever-presence impresses
upon him. Just as I am always
forgiving my mother. At times

I choose an irreconcilable self, a life
of shadowy unsettled blame.

No, she didn’t beat or neglect me
or make my life a little hell. In fact,
she filled an unconditional gap
with a martyr’s grace. Still
I must forgive because

the heavy inevitable weight
of her nature scarred me.

Her wall of resolute protection scarred me.
Her over-control; her lack of control;
How she’d tell us to go back to bed
when Dad came home at four a.m.
there is nothing to see here, nothing

to say, nothing ever to say.
But silence cannot forgive.

I avoid looking into places that
remind me of who I am, her love and
all those strong fragile fears. Or
I greet them as long lost
friends, as sign posts.

It’s up to me. Yes, for me
the scar might be a birthmark,

a dimple, a wink. Or it stays
a scar, going deeper until
it touches connective tissue,
slips between bone and marrow,
soul and skin. Mother,

I forgive you for my sins. Only
God knows what I mean.


 

Kelly Belmonte

Kelly Belmonte is a poet, blogger, and management consultant with expertise in nonprofit organizational development and youth mentoring. Kelly blogs from her site allninemuses.wordpress.com on poetry, writing, and creativity. Her poetry has been published in "Atlas Poetica" and "Relief Journal: A Christian Literary Expression." Kelly’s two chapbooks of poetry, "Three Ways of Searching" and "Spare Buttons," are available through Finishing Line Press.

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