hey mom,
i saw your son today
he was wearing a baseball cap
and the shadow of a mustache
and he looked a little bit like dad
when he hasn’t had his coffee
a little bleary-eyed
but off to work anyway
…
i see your son a lot these days
at the grocery store
and the pharmacy
in the rearview mirror
on a roadtrip to dallas
to see a show you wouldn’t like
with friends you haven’t met
…
and i hear him, too
when i laugh really big
when i yell out in excitement
his voice comes through
shaky and brand new
but radiating with this confidence
i never felt before
…
i wonder if you’ve ever seen him
if you even know he’s there
if you’ll recognize him in the christmas card
i send years from now
long past the point of plausible deniability
when it’s been far too long
to have this same cold
you think i have
…
i think someday, you could meet him
maybe at that coffee shop we both like
but you keep calling that barista “she”
when he looks just like me
you just don’t see it
and i don’t know if you ever will
unless i show you first
…
and that’s kind of a lot, mom
i’m busy
i have work
i don’t have the time
or the energy
or the guts
to bridge this gap between us
getting bigger and bigger
every time you call and ask
“what’s new with you?”
and i lie
and say nothing
…
i guess i just want you to know
your son is doing ok
great, actually
he has a date on friday
and he’s never felt so good
so correct
so safe
in his own body
but i don’t know if you could be happy for him
and i don’t want you to spoil his good time
he deserves this
after all those years
he spent trying so hard
to be your daughter
…
anyway, i have to go
i’m taking your son to the thrift
his feet are getting bigger
and he needs new shoes
