A little cold, little wet,
a little tired and yet
I am here. Still,
full of wonder.
The morning chill leaves
little to the imagination
and much less
to hope for.
Expected, perhaps, as it
always is, this time, this
season is only what
we ask of it.
11/21/2024 j.g.l.
The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Motherhood is a hand-to-hand, heart-to-heart, connection formed by being there.
Two years now I have watched the most beautiful bond develop between a child, and a mother who thought she may never be. It has become so obvious that this kind of love is more than DNA.
The woman had never expressed to her family the desire to be a parent, yet she — one who always held such a tight relationship with her own mother — decided in her teenage years that motherhood was something she wanted to experience.
A single woman who had developed a successful business, she put off a lot of personal stuff as the business prospered and met goals and objectives until she decided she could not ignore her personal goal any longer.
A few years back she announced to her family the intention to adopt.
Two years ago, after all the legal and leg work that is part of the process, she got the call. Her baby had been born.
Life changes, just like that.
This child has been given a full and complete life with loving aunts and uncles, a doting grandfather, and cousins who arrived about the same time. The mother, a good friend to so many, has support beyond her close family. You hear the expression that it takes a village to raise a child, well this child was born into one happy, committed village.
The woman has also been given the complete life she was craving, and one she deserves. In the process she has changed. Perhaps not in ways immediately noticeable, as I’ve only been learning or getting to know her further through the past years, I can see the changes.
I can see the love. I can see this child becoming so much like her Mom. I see traits and habits, and similarities, as this pair adjust to each other. Adoption was only a process for realizing a relationship that was meant to be.
Motherhood is not about flesh and blood, not always. Motherhood is more than being there. Motherhood, certainly in this case, is an opportunity for learning, and for growing, and for being who you were meant to be.
Children learn by watching, intuition, and trial and error.
Mothers learn by watching, intuition, and trial and error.
Nature and nurture equal forces, we all learn by watching and experiencing life and love.
I’m like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
One reply on “More Than Being There”
Gosh. Gorgeous photograph. My heart. I love this line:’Adoption was only a process for realizing a relationship that was meant to be.’
Thank you as always, J.g