Tears

A tear rests at the corner of the eye
To softly say, “I’m proud of you.”
It’s there as well in jubilation
For each attempt to raise the bar.
It will be there for skinned knees, too,
And even more so for those times
When I can’t be there to watch,
To comfort, to protect, to honor, to share
And I will feel the less because of it
And there will be lots of tears then.
You will have them, too, as you learn and grow
I will dry as many as I can,
But I will understand when you must have silence
If you must work through your troubles on your own.
I will sit, fidgeting, waiting for the phone to ring
Hoping for your call, to say, “I’m okay.”
And then a tear will form in the corner of my eye
As I marvel at your strength and nod, “I know.”