What’s I.W.D. to my mom?^

She sits all day
In that caged chair upright
Locked in by the armrests
Hemmed in by table slide

She sits all day
Color pencils in hand
To bring life to black and white
Pictures from my son, her little man

She sits all day my mom
It’s all that she can do
Her mind’s slowly going
Her worldview hazy; askew

All her life she has toiled
Slaving for her family
Never once asking for a day
To acknowledge her identity

So when such a day comes
Every year on 8th March
Does it mean anything at all
Does it remove her crutch?

If ’tis where all end of days
Ultimately lead
Does it matter if we celebrate
I.W.D.?

Naysayers may picket line
And string me up the tallest tree
Still I know what I see daily
This is her stark reality

So have your cake today
You can even eat it too
I’ve no doubt you do deserve it
For my mom, that’s certainly true

But if too her chair’s to be
Our twilight resting place
Does it matter how we fight today
For equal gender space?

Rest assured our lives’ purpose
Isn’t found on March the 8th
This higher place only comes
When we learn to embrace her faith*

^Being a stay home dad for nearly 3 years now, I can confidently say I’m more acutely aware than most of the pivotal role women play at home & in society. But I hope my tribute today can take us beyond even that, to a greater truth. Far greater than even gender equality.

Meanwhile, to all the ladies in my life, blessed International Women’s Day! You rock!!

*Philippians 2:5-8