Adam’s Sweet Mother (Adam Cope)

Saturday was warm and dangerous fires were sweeping through the hills.(1) Weary mother trying her best to feed me with natures own milk grew anxious and alarmed as she realised I was becoming dehydrated. Slipping into a deep sleep I slowed down and stopped sucking Mothers sweet nectar. Mother became fearful as I sagged and stopped sucking. The terror of deserting life at such a sweet age was dreadful. Life's joys and pain swept through my wrapped brained taped with rainbow thoughts of green pastures filled with hospital smells and rules of tall white robed nurses.

Stowed and swayed with theories just drawn from nursing and aged reason mother grabbed out and wept. Seeing time was running out she dressed her washed out son in a sweet jacket of hope and ran the bath. Water swept around the white bath and the boy slid back to dear life. Danger leaving as quickly as it had arrived. Testing mums time and weeping tolerance. The dangerous time past and mother, delivering life's nectar relaxed and warmth of the life giving type appeared once more.

Youths pleasures appearing again in sweet babies mind.

Young Adam and his mum

These thoughts growing swiftly as a growing weathered plant from a warm tropical island.

The warm days past and saluting each arrived day with treats of love mother and father grew together with their wonderful little baby boy.

These dawdling times are but warm memories now, as time seems slowly away from reality. Resting with dear Mother one day when she noticed me spasoming. Worried she decided to ignore it as many babies spasm. Sweet Mother. Was she to tell Father. Wishing she was imagining it she just trapped deep thoughts sadly in her goddess like brain.

Escaping waded into her astute thoughts. She followed youthful thoughts with daswardian tries washed yearning for hassles to go. Swayed by the knowledge that with life we all have hope Mother sweetly was trying to assist Dad by not telling him.

Sweet as Mother was she was worried.

Reliance on the professionals was all Mother had as the sweet baby was unable to tell her what was wrong. When weary baby got another spasoming fit Mother knew she could be quiet no longer. Easing out of her security sweetened blanket of hope she flew into a world of despair and hopelessness. Trapped in a world not yet made she grew fearful again. Father just must be told as soon as possible.

Raw as an onion filled will, kept away from wedded scenes Father tasselled with the fearsome truth. It seemed like an age as Father drove down to the hospital. Pressed with fear and ostrich head feelings treaded and teased with innocence Father drove on. Peering through the tear filled car of his life he arrived at the hospital. Realising he nestled in a life from where escape was impossible Father lived day to day on his dreams. Squinting through his brown coloured glass eyes he escaped daily into his dream loved world and wrestled with few hassles.

Qualified and mechanised Doctors descended on the wallowing parents and raised worried fears with dread. They advised them that I had a disease from which there was no escape. I had no idea of course that the life ahead was to be hard but dreamed on secure in the feeling that parents give life's best deal to their young.

©  Adam Cope