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When We Write Letters, Part IV: A Mommy Scribbles Letter

Corrie's Mom



My son next to the Catawba River in Jan. 2012

Dear Son:

Some say a mother who stays at home is the best.

They say she is better than all of the rest.

She is blessed her husband works

in a job that brings the check

to support her and the little ones.

 

 

Son, you hit and shout at your school.

You slapped a girl in the face,

and sat in the director’s office.

I found out at mid-day

when the text rang through to my phone.

 

 

I could not take you in the mornings.

I no longer give you your early snack.

Your one time stay-at-home mom

is not there to put you down for a nap.

 

 

Is that the reason why you react

to the children at your school?

Is that the reason my heart

breaks at the thought of you?

I hear those mothers preach.

I can see them in my sleep.

 

 

You are the reason I race home

51 mph in a 35 mph zone,

so I’m the one who takes you outside

and tells you of birds, colors, shapes and letters.

 

 

Do you recall us walking by the river:

The grayish bare trees where no one

could see us? I picked you up

and we counted the geese

as their wings dashed the water.

 

 

You guided me down the narrow path,

and took me to the ruined bridge

knocked down years and years ago.

We stood there longer than most

parents and their two-year-olds.



Both photos taken Feb. 2013.

The most difficult task as a writer, worker and parent is not a critique of your work. It comes in your doubt of yourself as a parent. When you write letters, sometimes you need to write one to yourself.

I believe strongly in motherhood. I believe all kinds mothers make great moms whether they are in charge of a company, a news woman, attending school, working part-time, a writer or they stay in the home.

Photos and Words by Rebecca T. Dickinson

Next week After You Get Your Foot in the Door will post.

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They say teacher turn over is high right now, and many teachers will leave the profession in five years or less. I will enter my seventh year as a full-time teacher, and my 12th year in education after I'd started as a sub and teacher assistant. I was the student in the 1990s you did not want in your classroom because I was diagnosed with ADHD and did not know how to socialize with other kids. I was due to be tested for autism, but this was considered an ostracizing experience for a child then, especially a girl. I am a third generation teacher and author of seventeen creative works.

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