Here in Our Humanity

A mother, a daughter, and the long work of becoming human together.

Here in these photos,
I see you.

Under your eyes
I can notice now,
the baggage of exhaustion
motherhood
has brought you.

Here in these photos,
I feel you.

Your tenderness
I can notice now,
in how you reach for me.
The gifts of presence
motherhood
has brought you.

Here in these photos,
I remember.

The delight of your smile.
The fear of your anger.
The calming of your touch.

The human always there,
camouflaged,
by your heroine cape.

Here in the world,
I began.

Once the cord was cut,
a wish was wished
at the candles
that blew out
any sense
of protecting me.

Here in this body,
I grew.

Personality and opinions formed,
my own feelings too—
big and deep,
just like you.

Here in this heart,
humanity takes place.

Resentment and anger,
sometimes even hate—
deflected at you,
but rooted towards me.

Here in this life,
I was lost.

Pain swirled
and tried to pull me under,
nearly drowning
your voice
that became my own.

Here in darkness,
I stepped away.

Forming my chrysalis,
I excruciatingly melted
into nothingness
and wholeness.

Where courage thrived
and humility returned.
Where shame released
and compassion bloomed.

Here in the light,
love returned.

Using voice,
I showed you my truth.
With willingness,
you held it.

And though the cord
can never renew
for I am not yours,
nor you
mine,
the love still remains.

Here in the now,
connection builds.

When the phone rings
on every other Sunday morning,
excitement flutters.
Every goodbye,
gratitude pours.

For all we’ve overcome.
For how you’ve accepted me.
For how I’ve accepted you.
For how we’ve accepted ourselves.

Here,
a mother and daughter—
a mirror
of our humanity.

---

Art created by author, colors inspired by her mom.

---