Can you remember back to a
time when you were only mere days removed from getting high praise for walking
on two legs?
Can you recall, those
early moments in the kitchen, when you’d stare up high at those marble
countertops and dream of seeing what exists beyond its aerie reach?
Have you forgotten,
how disappointed you were, when you found out it wasn’t all you’re imagination
painted it to be?
Whatever happened to
all the comparisons?
“Oh, how talented you’re child is, he’ll be
the next Hemmingway or Hawthorne for sure”
“Oh, what amazing
athleticism you’re kid possesses. When I
look at him I see the next Jackie Robinson, Walter Payton. He reminds me a lot of Ty Cobb, as if they
themselves were around to have watched him play”
“ You’re little boy
has such an imagination. He’s so
entertaining. I see a younger version of Bruce Lee, maybe Errol Flynn”
When
was the last time your scribbly-scrawled blots of crayon were hung up on the
fridge? When was the last time you’re
great aunt called you her little Picasso or Van Gogh, not even considering what
their backstory’s were? When was the
last time your grandfather pulled a quarter from your ear, and you thought you
were witnessing something bigger than the world itself?
Life
gets in the way. Doesn’t it?
And
you close the door behind you. Scuffing
the snow off from your dirty boot soles, greeting those inside, warmly, yet
complaining about the travails you endured to simply make it to their house. And then, you see the little one, and you
say, glowing from ear to ear, “How’s my little Marilyn today?” and she shyly
shrugs her shoulders…. that’s when you pull a dollar from her hair, as if it
had been hiding out in those blonde curls all the day.
Over at D'verse, for Meeting the Bar this past Thursday. Victoria offered up the discussion about exploring childhood and it's memories. I've been really sick this week, just feeling a bit better upon waking up a few hours ago, so I'm hoping the meds are working. In any case, I missed joining the party, yet thought I'd still take part in the prompt. I actually had a piece that I had started a long time back that fit this theme rather well.
The idea of how children's perspectives change and how their expectations alter upon finding some answers interests me. I wrote the second question/stanza a while back and filled in the rest of this piece from there for this discussion. If you haven't already, I urge you all to stop on by D'Verse, read Victoria's article and check out the poems shared, as you can do for the other linked discussions as well.
I think for me things got better as I get older. When I was a kid, I was the one who gets compared but in a negative manner. It's more like "why can't you be more like cousin X" rather than how much potential I had to be the next nobel prize winner. I was told more often that I was destined for failure than anything else. But I get your point.
ReplyDeleteThere's a nice full circling back. But because of how you set it up, it causes one to wonder if it's good to put on that way when one sees a kid. But how else, one is only hoping for the best. Very interesting.
(BTW, I think there's some funny auto-correcting going on. Some of them "you're" should be "your".)
What wonderful memories you invoked in this poem, Fred. I think we should all hang our own 'art' on the refrigerator as adults. (I hang my granddaughter's, and she loves it!) Or perhaps we should hang our poetry there where everyone can see / appreciate it, just like they do children's art.
ReplyDeleteThis intrigues me as well. How our expectations morph over time. All those childhood comparisons, that we will no doubt pass onto our little ones. Maybe, somewhere a long the way, we lose the child inside us. Maybe, just maybe, if we hold onto that part of ourselves, our world will turn to magic.
ReplyDeletesmiles...this made me warm all over man...some good things...the little magic of pulling the dollar from the hair...hanging crayon pictures on the fridge....smiles...love it fred...
ReplyDeleteAlways fun and very interesting to watch kids change and learn, as some of the reasons they come up with for things are great. Fun how they believe the dollar thing too.
ReplyDeleteoh i like fred - such a lovely write - i like that pulling a dollar from her blonde curls just the way your uncle did when you were young.. things repeat and repeat - and i'm glad the magic goes on and on...
ReplyDelete