If only I could right the wrongs
of years of leading boys to man—
if I could rewrite all the songs,
the chances are I’d err again.

When it comes to motherhood, there is no looking back. We acknowledge our mistakes, but what to do about them? A part of me earnestly believes I would be a better mother if I could start over again today, armed with the experience life has given me. Perhaps I could do better with my grandchildren (assuming our children ever give us any). But the more I contemplate the fantasy, the more inclined I am to believe I’d either make the same mistakes over again or find brand new ways to blunder. We aren’t perfect. Period. Together we learn how to love and how to forgive, and we trust God to mercifully make everything come out all right in the end.

My children made Mother’s Day very special for me this year. We are perfect for each other, and I love each one of them very much. I hope each of you who are mothers can say the same.

Copyright © 2021 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved

Name derived from the name of the micro-fiction form “Drabble,” which is a story consisting of exactly 100 words. A Dribble is a poem consisting of exactly 100 letters (not characters—spaces and punctuation are not counted) in four lines.
Because of the brevity of the poem, the title is integral to the poem (though not included in the count).
Usually humorous
Rhyme scheme: abab

2 Replies to “Motherhood”

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