How can it possibly be that 20 years have passed since Emma claimed a space in our lives? It’s become a bit of a tradition to write an Emma poem for her birthday. I’m not sure why exactly. I’m sure you all don’t want another poem about Emma, but I seem to want to write them. So, no pressure — but it’s going up anyway, because Moms everywhere secretly hide pieces of their children’s lives in drawers and boxes — something they made, or wrote and pictures. I rooted through the drawer my mom stored my stuff in and dutifully received it all when she presented it to me when she finally downsized and moved out of the family home.

I don’t have a lot of stuff from my kids because they don’t create in that way, so I guess this is my way of holding onto each moment and trying to express how important Emma is to me — as if you wanted convincing (smile).

Privilege
 
I’ve found joy
for twenty years
in your company,
joined as we are
by an arc of electricity
sparked at the moment
of you birth
and recharged
by the tenacity
of your presence
and the love,
I now know constantly
energizes everything
between us.
 
We’ve grown (both of us)
You, right before my eyes
from baby to lady
with attitude and style – 
no words needed
to make your point
or you way.
 
( What’s unspoken,
what they call Autism,
and whatever else – 
is not so much a loss
as a mystery,
like grains of sand
that seed the hard won
pearls of delight
I now treasure )
 
I’ve grown more
(than you’ll ever know)
just because you are –
here, gifting me
with the privilege
of your presence.
 
Happy Birthday,
my Emma.
 
© Laurel Archer December 2019