Her Choice

Another late night when
my mind won’t shut down.
My heart beating out words,
my tears drowning out sound.
Sometimes it’s best
just to let things be.
But I search for her face when I close my eyes,
my search for a face I don’t know,
has become a search for me.

Barely making it day to day,
a young mother gives her soul away.
I’ll never know
that young mother’s touch;
Did she cry as she had to let me go?
I’ll never see my mother’s face,
but I was there, that soul was me.

These days I find myself wondering
at her lonely life’s choice,
yet so afraid to really know.
Do I have a sister, a brother…
and if I do, do they look like me?

Half a century later, I watch
as my own kids grow and choose,
and I see their strengths and fears.
I see more clearly now her choice –
a future she’d never see, the future she gave to me,
the future for my children’s years.

I’ll probably never know or see her.
But I was there, that soul inside her was me.
Nothing was said, no words were spoken.
I never heard the sound of her voice
as she made me her life’s choice.

And I wonder at that young mother
with a heart so young, so raw, so broken.
I wonder at her choice for my life
when I had no voice of my own;
all alone, a lifetime ago.
I wonder, did she cry as she had to let me go?

P.S. author’s note…I am pro choice when that makes sense, I am pro life when that makes sense. Women must be allowed to determine what makes sense for themselves. I am the result of an unwanted pregnancy. I am glad I am here but I am glad she made the choice, that it wasn’t made for her.