Chrysalis like. Our arms, our home.
Enveloping, nurturing,
encouraging evolving independence.
Teaching skills. Helping. Watching.
Too soon the dividing line appeared,
between the now and what was coming.
Responsibilities increased. Yours not ours.
Your departures, more frequent,
measured at first in hours, not miles.
Your wings. Expected, prepared for.
We marveled and smiled. Waved at you . . .
and then you were gone.
Distance multiplied. Time stretched separations.
Hairline fractures of the heart,
smiling our love through goodbyes.
Parenting children to adulthood.
Learning to live through changing times,
adjusting to the moving margins.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Dora asks us to write about a poem that somehow talks about margins. She gives many examples of margins. As a septuagenarian with two happily married children and five grandchildren, I thought about living through moving margins as a parent and thus, this poem.
lillian the home poet 
This made my heart ache a little.💔
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“Too suddenly it seemed,
we stood on the margins between then . . .
and what was coming.”
Too suddenly indeed. And those increasing separations, those “hairline fractures of the heart” (there’s not a better way to say it) and “adjusting to the moving margins”: these inevitable events, the product of successful parenting, but a margin crossed all the same. Such.a moving write, Lill.
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A beautifully sad poem, Lillian. Parenting is a series of paradigm shifts. Sadly we do get marginalized.
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Hi Lillian, this is so beautiful and so relatable. My sons are both starting to spread their wings so I still have this ahead.
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Oh my heart.. this is such a beautiful poem, Lillian! 😍 I am all teary-eyed and emotional after reading it. Love, love the pictures too ❤️❤️
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Your poem resonates with me, Lill, and, like Melissa, it made my heart ache a little. I remember that feeling of standing on the margins between, the physical distance, and the ‘hairline fractures of the heart’. And now we’re doing something similar with grandchildren!
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Lillian, this is such a tender and heartfelt reflection on parenting—your words beautifully capture the bittersweet journey of letting go. 🌿❤️
Much love,
David
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My heartstrings pulled to their breaking point with this one, Lillian. You so beautifully described what it feels like to parent for years, watch as they leave our nests … the journeys their lives take, for better, for worse. PS .. I devoured Kristin Hannah’s book.
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Oh this brought me to tears, Lill. You’ve captured all the emotions that resonate. We nurture our “littles”, giving them wings, only to fly away from us…oh geez, you got me! I especially love “Hairline fractures of the heart happened,
smiling our love through goodbyes.” That is so powerful.
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Without children of my own I see more how it must have been for my parents (who are both gone)
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Parenthood is filled with so many of these margins. Your metaphor works so beautifully. My two are in constant change. So many delicate transitions.
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what a beautiful, beautiful and profound poem… thank you
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