You can’t paint the Mona Lisa Twice

I used to be a wife

I will always be a mother

Every action mapped out to accommodate

children and a busy husband

Every mealtime and talk planned around

gymnastics and soccer games

Prom dresses and broken ankles

Snow boarding and pasta dishes

Beds made with white clean tucked sheets

Baby powder and hospital corners

Football in the front yard with the boys

Shopping sprees and giggles with the girls

Dips in the pool at night to steal

away the beautiful blue of my husbands eyes

"Sweetheart, I picked up the dry cleaning."

Peck on the cheek before pancakes and

work to make every frazzled end meet

Effort that people that have not done it

Can or will never comprehend

Tear wiping

Laundry folding

Floor mopping

Toilet scrubbing

No sleep

Dark eyes and sometimes forced smiles

I enjoyed every minute of it

and every day I praised the existence of coffee

The dissolution of my marriage was a mutual choice

A well thought out discussed

respectful division

of two exhausted souls

Both brilliant in our way

Both fighters to the end

It was quite the test of character

For us both

We survived it all

and our children

are as close to perfect

human beings

that we could have ever hoped for

For this effort we are proud

Every heart warming leap of success

Worth it

Every heart wrenching fall of failure

Worth it

I find it often funny

Alone in the desert the questions from strangers

"why are you single?" Choice

"what brought you here?" Work

"where are you from?" California

"who do you spend time with?" Art

Nobody knows your story

or your life in simple terms

I am thankful for my prose family

A place where freedom of expression

Exists fully with awe and respect

Not judgment

Happy Thanksgiving Prosers

Keep writing

Keep living

Keep being true

To yourself

remember to be patient

when things stop making sense

the answers will inevitably arrive

They don't have to make sense to everyone

They just have to make sense to you

Blessings