Mother’s Differential Diagnosis

Is a broken heart a diagnosis?

 

You run ahead into the bathroom lone, 

Stealing a quick glance as you disappear. 

My heart leaps and aches, beating fast and strong. 

My chest weighs heavy, squeezing and painful.

I feel my heart swell when you reappear.

Is this pericarditis? Heart failure? 

Heart attack? Cardiomyopathy? 

 

You frolic up the roller coaster ramp. 

Choose your lonesome seat, scared but determined. 

You lock eyes with me as the bar locks down. 

Then you lurch forward as my abdomen 

regurgitates to my esophagus. 

I cannot swallow. It burns. Shallow breaths. 

Is it GERD? Anaphylaxis? Panic? 

 

You explore the block on your bicycle. 

You look backward and wink and wave, I blink... 

Did you leave? Turn the curve? Away from me? 

Will the cars see you? Where will you pedal?

Will you fall? Will you know what to do?

My thoughts are paralyzed. My forehead throbs. 

Is it a seizure? Aneurysm? Stroke? 

 

Who is this who has strength to hurt? 

My son. 

Where is my power? Here it is; 

To let. 

Let you ride, walk, fall, run, pedal, explore.  

I saw you. I taught you. 

Now I let you. 

 

Please do not take my other sons away. 

But already, they follow you. Leader. 

They look to you, brother over mother. 

You hold a great responsibility. 

You share my power. Take care not to lead 

Into dark forests where they cannot see. 

Remember to bring a compass and light. 

 

I ask you to see one, do one, teach one. 

I want you to show them, then to let them. 

 

You return back into view with a burst,

So proud and untethered and full of life. 

Heat stings my eyes. My vision blurs, then black. 

Retinal detachment? Or glaucoma? 

 

You take peeks into what your life will hold. 

Life is exciting. Exhilarating. 

Also lonely. And frightening. I know.