Transition Poem by Susan H. Davis

As I hold the squirming little body,
the boy not yet a boy,
the first born of my first born,
son of the daughter who gave Me life,
I say, hearing
my daughter run into the room,
“Here’s Mommy.”
And for a moment,
I don’t know who I am.

When they leave for home,
their home, not my home,
I need grounding,
so I call my aging mother.
She answers breathless,
listens to my fear
that all I’ve been for years
is now gone,
and says calmly
“Yes, life goes on.
Until it doesn’t.”