Community//

Life is a journey of struggle and blessings

From north Africa, southern France, up-state New York, midwest Minnesota, East Pakistan and finally New Mexico -- my mother's life was an adventure in resilience and faith. (#WeeklyPrompt)

The Thrive Global Community welcomes voices from many spheres on our open platform. We publish pieces as written by outside contributors with a wide range of opinions, which don’t necessarily reflect our own. Community stories are not commissioned by our editorial team and must meet our guidelines prior to being published.

This poem was written for my mother over the span of many years; first as my Valentine’s Day gift in 2001 and culminating with the last couple stanzas for her funeral in 2010. It explains a journey of struggles and blessings and what her life taught me along the way.

A Life Come Full Circle

In your eyes I see the fullness of life;
a gathering of joys, challenges, disappointments
and mostly a life full of richness.

It began in French Morocco, exotic and rough;
learning Arabic at school a must;
"You aren't in your own country."

Your father, a military man,
taught his family honor, love, humility.
Your mother, a teacher, 
taught you manners, love and English.

You eyes in old photos show a life
joyful, honorable, protected;
surrounded by family, servants, Moroccan vistas.

Then war came like a lion 
and ripped apart your life forever
from a life of exotic panoramas,
family love and sheltered, elegant joys.

You came to the States with a husband;
the course was set for a life of challenge.
From a Casablanca wedding -- oh, so romantic, 
a honeymoon in the Atlas -- remember the mud?

In your eyes, somedays, I see the questions,
"What would my life have been
if I had not crossed the Atlantic?"

You accepted the challenge of travel:
Indiana, Ithaca, Minnesota, Pakistan, Iran;
the life of a war bride
based on honor and dignity.

Settling in New Mexico, your life came full circle;
destiny's course, so unpredictable; 
your life in a Moroccan adobe house; 
raising your family in a New Mexican adobe home.

And when your destiny left you, "a war casualty"
alone at 60, you say,
"Thank God he left me in Taos."

In your eyes, somedays I see
sunsets so familiar yet so exotic;
a familiar world that is no longer;
an accepted world that is forever.

Every day your eyes filled with panoramas;
a view never the same, yet so familiar.
Your French Moroccan dream that was,
became an American dream still living.

To your children, headstrong, you pass on 
your wisdom, your language, your way of seeing;
and though it was rough, I hope you'll see in my eyes,
great love and gratitude for all that you are to me.

Je préfère être une poire juteuse qu’un citron pressé.

Je t’aime, Maman.

    Share your comments below. Please read our commenting guidelines before posting. If you have a concern about a comment, report it here.

    You might also like...

    Community//

    Donna Henes: “Why you should take a walk alone, with your ears and mind open”

    by Yitzi Weiner at Authority Magazine
    Community//

    How Father Federico Higuera Inspired A Lifetime of Magic

    by Mary Elizabeth Beary
    Community//

    LaWann Moses of LAM Consulting: “Have a determined and growth mindset”

    by Fotis Georgiadis
    We use cookies on our site to give you the best experience possible. By continuing to browse the site, you agree to this use. For more information on how we use cookies, see our Privacy Policy.