Wooden Box

If I could
I would place every fear I have for my sons
inside a small wooden box
and leave it out in the yard

I think about that box often

I imagine it sitting there alone beneath the weather
the grass growing slowly around it
rainwater darkening the wood
August heat opening tiny cracks along the lid

A plain little box
holding all the unbearable parts of motherhood

At first
the box would have held small things

Fevers in the middle of the night
Tiny shoes by the door
The sound of them crying from another room
The terrible helplessness of hearing your child cough
while the whole dark house waits with you

Back then
I thought motherhood was about protecting

I did not yet understand
that motherhood is mostly about enduring

So the years passed
and the box grew heavier

Into it went first heartbreaks
Late-night drives
Silences
The fear that arrives when your children begin
walking further and further away from your arms

And now my sons are men

Men in uniform
Men standing inside realities
I cannot soften for them

So now the box holds oceans

It holds unanswered messages
It holds the terrible imagination of mothers
It holds the sound of a phone not ringing
It holds every silent prayer
I have whispered into the light

If I could
I would leave the box outside forever

I would let rain kneel over it through the night
Let thunder shake it open
Let wind carry pieces of my fear away
through the trees

I would let winter freeze it stiff
Let summer split the wood apart slowly
until the earth itself
began carrying some of the weight for me

Because I am tired
of carrying the box inside my body

Tired of setting it beside my coffee each morning
Tired of carrying it room to room invisibly
while the world continues normally around me

And still
when I close my eyes
the box becomes lighter again

Inside it

I find warm little hands clenched in mine
Their laughter moving through the hallway

Maybe that is the true shape of motherhood

a small wooden box
filled first with tenderness
then with fear
then with all the love in the world
a human being can no longer survive carrying alone