A Mother's Chair

You, like them would walk from one place to another,

Until the day came when days felt like weeks, weeks felt like months and months felt like years.

And all of a sudden you had a chair like no other.

With two big back wheels reminding me of cyclists whizzing past me like a cat that’s heard a car’s warning beep.

And two small front wheels that would perfectly fit on a supermarket trolley pushed by a kid.

The blue leather seat giving you comfort as I grabbed the two handlebar grips and became your feet.

A Grade 6 boy with a crazy imagination, what would we become today?
A rocket? A ship? A racing car until that day I nearly crashed us into that grey wall that became our daily eyesore.

And although I never quite understood as a young boy why you had to have a chair like no other,
I couldn’t help but feel ashamed as why you couldn’t be like the others.

Now as I stand and visit you,
I see that it’s never been a chair like no other,
But always a mother like no other.