Wisdom... So Damn Slow

I discarded my first language.

Allowing new words to ensue.

Initially I stumbled and forgot.

Now they come naturally,

they melt like chocolate in the hot sun.

Smoother and sweeter still.

Past pronouns suffocate without use.

His-him-he, breathe fresh air.

They give life to Holden,

Strengthen and embody his gender.

My accomplishment feels powerful.

Holden’s past is history.

Only a fragment of his whole.

By pushing through his veneer,

he has become himself.

A Holden who was there all along.

Holden’s resolve to be himself,

an uncompromised person,

in spite of all his obstacles,

gives new depth to love 

I will always have for him.

His Top-Surgery is rescheduled.

I want to be there, to hold his hand.

Before…during…after his surgery.

There to nurture, to love and be needed.

My tears fall, rejecting the possibility of not being included.

I am challenged to set aside my role.

As mother, protector, woman of sustenance,

For my son, my baby.

My mind waits permission from my heart,

“Can we let it go?”

My heart can’t answer yet.

Can I let go of the prospect of seeing the man

behind the child?

Is it feasible without seeing my child 

behind the man?

In surgery, in recovery, in pain?

Unimaginable.

Me in America,

Holden in Thailand for surgery.

Then his recovery in Berlin, 

with his love, Emma by his side.

It feels inconceiveable.

Like I’m crawling in the desert,

dying of thirst, no chance of water.

I know I will reach the spring.

Holden’s plan will infiltrate 

the dryness in my throat.

Like a new spring pushing up through the sand.

Bubbling to overwhelm the surface.

Quenching my thirst.

Experience has taught me to know.

It will take time.

But, Damn I hate how slow 

the crawl and the thirst hold on!

Wisdom is a Lonely Study