Friday, August 15, 2008

The Patient Watermelon by Noreen

(Note: My friend Jennifer, who's 8 year-old son is undergoing chemo, posted a heart felt poem on her blog this week. It gave me the courage to share one of my own. When I tried to journal this experience in New Zealand, it just had to come out as a poem. It surprised me, since I hadn't written a poem in almost 20 years.)





The Patient Watermelon

Dropped a ball again
Tears of frustration
A sincere prayer for help

I hate when I forget that I said that I could help!

I remembered to buy the watermelon early.
My son helped choose a luscious round one for his team.
It sat patently waiting all week on the counter,
ready to be put into service.
By Saturday Morning the watermelon was forgotten,
buried behind last night’s dishes.

Three kids fed, dressed, with hats, shoes, water bottles and mitts
and out the door with their dad by 8:30.
A sigh of relief –

Until I see it – just moments too late.

The patient watermelon.

Only one car
No cell phone
Lifestyle choices I enjoy-
Until a moment like this.

I picture my son’s face at the end of the game, when someone asks,
“Where’s the snack?”
and he remembers the watermelon,
hand picked-
the one his mom forgot to send.

Then my tears come,
Helplessness
Disappointment
Frustration

Then my prayers come
Heartfelt and
Earnest
Searching for a solution.

I place calls to my friends, my visiting teacher, my neighbor.
No one’s home on this busy Saturday morning.

Another prayer for help
A plea to be rescued

Then it comes –
A name leaps off the phone list. Somebody’s home!

An angel in a sedan- who hardly knows me – gives a half hour out of her morning
for me.

I arrive at the ball field, laden with my largest white bowl-
filled with patient watermelon.

I find my son’s team in time to witness the last batter run home. My son sees me approach with my load.

The smile on his face is priceless.

He excitedly relieves me of my burden.
The one in my arms and
The one in my heart.

Feeling important, he hands out the watermelon,
Never aware that I almost let him down.

A ball rescued
Tears of joy
A prayer of Thanks.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That's very beautiful, Noreen. I know the feeling, too. Beautifully said.

Andy and Marsha Gibbons said...

Thanks.