“Weight of Apologies”
They will wake one quiet morning,
Find the house too large for silence,
Their hands full of small, sharp regrets,
The soft currency of things undone.

Once, their parents were the sun’s first light,
Pouring laughter into bowls at breakfast,
Tucking courage into pockets for school,
Teaching how to tie a stubborn shoelace.

They will count the empty chairs and wonder,
How joy was carried away by their own impatience,
How a single slammed door can hollow a lifetime.
Memory will press its cool palm to their forehead;
They will learn the weight of apologies, slow as rain,
The ache of loving someone who once loved them first.
© Susan Ruth Robertson 092561050326

Ephesians 6:1–3

— “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. ‘Honor your father and mother’

—which is the first commandment with a promise

—‘so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.’”