The First Meeting
I had only seen my son one time,
As a newborn held in arms of mine,
So perfect and small, so precious,
My son I would love but not to see.
Twenty three years later I find him,
My shock over shadowed by my love for him,
Love that had been within my very soul,
Finding him has made my existence whole again.
Overwhelmed I was with all of this,
Wanting to know so much was my wish,
Fear of rejection was in my thoughts,
Learning to talk and all that it brought.
One day I suggested we meet if he wanted,
My son agreed, my wish was granted,
The deep yearning to see how he looked,
My feelings so complex I couldn’t talk.
So many feelings resurfacing from deep inside,
The hurt and the pain, of tears I had cried,
Of not parenting my son, not seeing him grow,
Missing so much of of his life, I was low.
I was scared but needing to see him,
My love for him was great and never dim,
The day came quickly and I was glad,
Never again would I have to feel so sad.
My son was an hour late to our meeting place,
My thoughts of lost years not to be replaced,
The start of new memories of times to come,
Waiting there in an early day of autumn.
He walked straight past me into the pub,
I waited a few moments then into the noisy pub,
Then I sat by him, scared to talk to him,
Amazed that there was no mistaking my kin.
We talked and I gave him a copied marriage certificate,
He gave me photographs, was this my fate?
To meet then no more contact for us,
One of the photographs of him as a baby, why did I fuss.
The tears dried quickly as we shared a hug,
I didn’t want to let go, it was like a drug,
The afternoon and evening went far to quick,
I made the most of it being strong as a brick.
The day couldn’t have been better,
Except for my husband being at the end of his tether,
We sorted this out, our love strong,
With my son the much needed bond.
What more could I ask for of my men,
I love them both in different ways then,
A day to remember always, never forgotten,
A sense of peace that is my own haven.