No longer and right now
No longer do you ride in my belly sharing every step and breath I take.
No longer can your body be easily cradled in just my two hands.
No longer do you greet me solely with coos, chirps, and searching eyes.
No longer does your body curl into itself, holding the pose of a neonate.
No longer do you need me for all of your needs to be met.
I miss all that has passed before this time.
I grieve what we have lost because no longer are you who you once were then.
Without letting go of “right now,” I wish I could simultaneously hold “back then.”
But that is not possible. Right now is now. Then is then.
So I cry, moan, and ache for all the preciousness we have had together.
Then I give thanks for each of these “thens” that are no longer, even though I want to hold them close forever.
I give thanks that though the past cannot be re-lived, tomorrow is not yet.
I give thanks that we have right now.
~ Shonnie Lavender, 9/13/12