the lost boy.
i love that i grew up like that
and am amazed, still, at the generosity and love they all showed me.
barbara was the sensitive mom. the one who empathized and listened, talked me through things. she was the first person i came out to. i can only remember the look on her face when i told her. she looked at me with so much love that i can’t remember anything she said that afternoon. but i do remember walking to my car, leaving with this wonderful, beautiful feeling, hoping that all of those close to me i was about to come out to would be as supportive as b was.
i confided in kelly, as well. although she was a different kinda mom. the kind who never let me drown in my own thoughts about things. i remember sitting at her dining room table in high school, upset because my father said we didn’t have the money to fix my wrecked car and would have to drop out of arts high because of it. so she offered. and it wasn’t just a little ding, either.
denise i’ve been close with for a bit longer. i think i might have been twelve when i met her. i met her at church and latched on to her in a way i can’t really explain. i don’t know what it was. grew up with her son, and am a sister to her younger kids.
they were there for me at a time when i desperately needed
and they never turned their backs on me.
even when it was clear that it might have been wise to do so,
during my all too apparent drug phases.
it’s a beautiful thing.
people like them.
so loving and willing and open.
these women taught me how to fly
second star to the right and straight on til morning.
motherless yet mothered.
i feel a legacy beginning to grow
in the students i teach. tutor.
there have been times when students have cried to me in frustration
where i have seen fear in their eyes
there have been times when i don’t know where to start with this one.
look into their eyes and listen.
extend to them what has been given me.
a piece of the map to arrive at the star.