When my oldest daughter was married her younger sister had sought out female friends and relatives to assemble a keepsake of favorite poems, blessings, recipes, advice and all kind things women say to one another at the prospect of marriage and motherhood. They were gathered together, including this poem, in a small homemade parcel and presented to the grateful bride.

SOMETIMES
Sometimes I look at her, and she will
remind me of someone familiar.
Sometimes I’m upset with her,
because she is not enough like me,
then other times I fear she is.
Sometimes I watch her hands,
do things women do and I think
everything is moving too fast.
Sometimes I have a fierce urge
to hold her in my arms,
and try to hold back the future.
Sometimes when I look at her, she takes
my breath away because she is so pretty.
Sometimes I want to cry for this
girl-woman child of mine,
for what might be ahead of her.
Sometimes I’m afraid,
because as she grows I seem
to get smaller, as if her beginning
means my end.
Sometimes I ache for the child she
once was, and other times,
I can’t wait for the woman
she will be…
My Daughter
Christina Keenan