When Linda chose the topic of turning for our Spiritual Journey writing this month, I thought of turning from the long, free days of summer to the short, frantic days of school. Teachers go back tomorrow. Yes! The earliest we’ve ever gone back. To say I’m not ready is an understatement. I haven’t even been to my classroom all summer. I am grateful that a colleague did my bulletin board and later today some of my former students will help me arrange my classroom. It’ll get done.
But the turning that I am focused on these days is the changing relationship I have with my children. Since the loss of my father and the Alzheimer’s of my mother, I am coming to realize that I’ve lost my advisors. The two people I turned to no matter what, who would talk, share, advise, and love me unconditionally are no longer available to me. I guess I should be praying more. I am trying to meditate more, but I am spinning a top of woeful angst.
My daughters are busy with their difficult jobs, their young children, and generally making a life for themselves. The last thing they need is a mother who needs them. But I need them. They know me the deepest and strongest (next to my husband, of course). They love me unconditionally. They show up when I ask them to. But is it fair that I turn to them for friendship now?
Last weekend I was sitting on my youngest daughter’s couch catching up on emails. Her husband was lying on the floor watching and playing with baby June, and he told her that he knows one day she will argue with him and think he’s uncool, but today she only had eyes for him. He was soaking it all up to prepare himself for the teen years.
I get a poem-of-the-day from the Poetry Foundation. I read the poem The New Speakers by Gloria Anzaldua and took a striking line from her poem to write a golden shovel.
We don’t want to be
Stars but parts
of constellations.
In the midday light that blinds, we
Margaret Simon, draft
play Paul Simon Radio and don’t
follow the tune, fake the words. We want
to
be
stars
in the eyes of our children, but
they grow, they change, the parts
we play become the connecting lines of
their constellations.
I want to be in a constellation with my daughters. But this new relationship will take time to nurture. As all turning does, we have to move in its direction, in the centrifugal force, and let it take us where we want and need to be.
Reflections on the Teche 
Margaret, your writing is so profound and moving, bringing tears to my eyes. There’s so much to navigate at this stage of our lives. So much change. How I wish we could go out for lunch and just talk and talk and talk. Until then, your words and the striking line and metaphor in your poem will linger with me.
If you are available, I’d love to call and talk about this. It’s a new route for me that is kind of overwhelming.
Beautiful, thought-inspired turning in your poem Margaret, and not an easy one, thanks for sharing this tender area.
And good luck with the oncoming school start!
Lovely, Margaret.
Margaret, some of the turns our lives take are difficult. Sometimes the turns we make are built on the foundations of our past. Your poem beautifully illustrates the fact that we don’t want to be isolated, but a part of something bigger.
I know you are absolutely in the constellation of your family. Such a terrible beauty in your words. I understand so much…I have felt a very similar loss and it made me angry in a way that I couldn’t put my finger on for a long time. Thank goodness for the family members of choice, our friends, that help us through. Sending you so much love and gratitude for a beautiful poem that expresses all of this.
Margaret: My heart goes out to you. This time of life is both a blessing and a trial. I feel it every day. My prayers for healing and energy and comfort.
Oh Margaret – yes, those constellations! I love that you wove this into your poem. And somehow, even in death, I feel we remain connected…constellations of spirit. Thank you for sharing this.
Margaret, it is amazing how early your school life starts. It appears to be different here in Virginia also. My little Sierra will start 1st grade soon. I hope you are feeling better – I know that this summer has been difficult for you and I continue to lift up prayers for a recovery and peaceful start of the school year. It is a difficult time when we as parents long to be parents and friends to our children. You beautifully stated your thoughts in your Golden Shovel.
the parts
we play become the connecting lines of
their constellations.
Thank you for the inspirational post today.
Margaret, I am taking wisdom, calm, and encouragement from your words and your Golden Shovel as I head east once again to visit our son, daughter in law, and the now 4-1/2 month old Dalia. Surprises await…