More Than a Mother
By Becky Morquecho
@beckymorquecho
We’re all moms
roasting veggies
(in hopes they get eaten)
rubbing backs
when our kids burn
with fevers
and fright
But I sense
something else sparkling
in the mineral crystals
of our bones
our souls
A hint
of wit
only our girlfriends
get
when brunching
sipping
sparkling mimosas
An inkling
of angst
that may be best played
on a piano
a chance to
rebrand anxiety
as art
Whispers in the cool
of night
You are more than a mother.
We’d do anything
for our daughters and sons
crawl across
cracked
desert floors
drag parched
bodies
to reach
our beloveds
sacrifice
our own oasis
if it meant
giving them
a drink from
an endless cup
But
I hear a whimper
from worn down
women
mothering so wholly
wringing out
lungs
and lives
to give children
something palatable
for dinner
promising
for the future
We are multifaceted
creatures
born to bloom
but choking
on chore charts
We are more than mothers.
Instead of
downplaying
desires
cutting edges off
sandwiches
but refusing to
offer
the best parts of
ourselves
to anyone else
What if Purpose
stepped into
brave boots
and crossed
the chasm
from
snuggling
silky limbs
to the untapped
territory
of craft
church
community?
Our beautiful
babies
fill an irreplaceable
piece of the
pie
While
marriages
friendships
creativity
God-given skills
are vying for
just a slice
As I change
blank pages
into stacks
of stanzas
my daughter asks
“Is that another poem, Mama?”
When I say yes
the color
of wonder
brightens the
bronze in her eyes
It clicks
like the first time
she snapped
her own seatbelt
She is more than a mother.
Stare at the
bubblegum sky
tune into
the sparrow’s song
heed to the hope
beating behind
your ribs
Whether we’re buying
diapers in bulk
or teaching teens
to parallel park
we can choose
both/and
embrace
the wonder
of becoming
(can anyone do this better
than mothers?)
I’d do anything
for my daughter
Even sacrifice
the idol of a title?
Stuff false identities
in the hall closet
with all the other
junk?
Where is the girl
who cartwheeled
across lawns
who plastered
scrap paper
with daydreams and daisies?
Don’t I want my daughter
to meet
her?
I’ll keep
roasting veggies
and rubbing my baby’s back
because she’s better than
any vision
I’ll give her
an extra kiss
and the tightest squeeze before
I fly
Out the front door
to yoga
to brunch
to walk alone in the sun
because I am
more than a mother.
Five years of podcasts, essays, and poems, these are Becky Morquecho’s final words for Coffee + Crumbs. Keep up with her work by subscribing to her Substack and following her on Instagram. Becky is currently planning an online poetry event—that will be announced on IG in October—pitching her book of poems to agents, interviewing guests for Dose of Hope, and editing for other authors.
Photo by Jennifer Floyd.