When Motherhood was in Black and White - and thankfully it changed

Back in the day, there was no discussion, no space to disagree,

Risking the vacuum of being unseen.

Everything was black and white, yes or (no), 

The Matriarchs decided what to wear, when to eat,

The Patriarch mandated silence at the dinner table

(Regardless if you were choking on tough chunks of meat),

We all obeyed because they ruled in black and white.

Memories of Grandma's face enveloped in the grey cloud

Of cigarette smoke, and the grey landscape of life at home

With Mother, perhaps black and white would at least have offered

Contrast, and maybe a rainbow could have occasionally 

Burst through the seams of darkness.

They are smiling in this black and white photo but

I know that their entwined lives were mostly black,

Dreary in misunderstandings and steeped only in responsibility.

Today, there is color in mothering, reds and yellows, greens

And pinks, the drama of disagreement, the warmth of love

And connection, I see it everywhere even in the black and

White moments of difficulty, a rainbow will emerge,

A pot of gold at the base.

Such is love.

 

Karen and Felix 

Tori and Warren

So colorful!