Getting ready to go to work to give a lecture.
in my briefcase
The ball comes crashing through the window,
a million tiny knives all over the living room.
In that moment, I feel my anger begin to grow:
my frustration at this house,
never being organized enough,
a temporary solution of living with cardboard or
an old piece of plywood,
thoughts of how will we
clean up all this glass–
Anger grows as I know I will be late
for my presentation.
hearing your small 4-1⁄2-year-old feet running up the steps,
seeing your small arm push
open the door,
eyes look up to mine moist, searching.
I take you in my arms: “Are you hurt?”
it’s only a window,
it can be replaced.
What’s important is that you are not hurt,
it’s only glass,
you are my son,
I love you.
“Let’s get the broom.”
This poem was my “epiphany” moment of understanding how my anger could rise up in me and I might react to my own frustration rather than see the tenderness of the moment. It caused me to understand what was really important in life! My relationships, especial with my son.
Photo: Getty Images