Lessons from the Wise
- Memoir
- Aug 31, 2020
- 2 min read
2020
You refuse to fall asleep without me next to you
Stroking your Teletubby nose to the nearby lullaby
Playing over the theme song of emperors and concubines down the hall
I learned to be
Patient
I abandon Science midway to meet you in the bathroom
Holding your pants at arms lengths while scrubbing you both under the cold tap
Purposefully avoiding my toes as I handed you back to your teacher
I learned to remain
Composed
You fumbled with the wheelbarrow across the field while your peers galloped past
Making way through the cheering crowd
I turned red at my burning cheeks as I helped you finish last
From then on, I vowed my love would be
Unconditional
I once argued with you based on my birthright as the eldest child
Realizing my logic belonged to a previous dynasty, I apologized begrudgingly
Hugging you tight as you cried for justice prevailing
My ego learned to kneel and remain
Humble
Your shiny armor pales next to my battered titles weary from defending her queen’s castle
Yet in your stuttering and reticence, you remove a brick from your unfinished library
And gift it to the neighboring kids so they too could train their knights to leap in L shapes
You showed me how to be
Generous
I’ve left home for six years now and I admire the portraits of you whenever I come visit
While I age in dog years, you grow in human years and your mind inches like a tortoise
I lay on your bed with my head on your soft tummy pillow just like we used to
I wanted your warmth and
Comforting
You take a stroll with me after supper along the inky moat that secludes our shoreside home
I’m afraid of dark open spaces so I hold tight to your arm
You ask me how I’ve been living far away, what I learned from mis-taking charms for a Prince
Together I looked bluntly at my past year and chose to be
Brave
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