Maternity Leaves (A Dedication)

[Ricky J. Fico]

Thanksgiving Day - for me, a day of mixed emotions - a day to be grateful and a day to regret. Like many of us I am most grateful for the many blessings bestowed upon me - far too many to adequately list or categorize.

Firstly, I am thankful for life - the starting point for all that follows. I am grateful for that fateful day - September 11, 1992- when I was given back my life. A new beginning. How can one possibly deny such a magnificent offering?

As many know, the Thanksgiving Day of my tenth year is the day that my father walked out, never to look back. A pivotal point in my life, there's never been any doubt. Thus, the reason for my mixed emotions and bitter-sweet memories.

On Thanksgiving Day, I look out the window. Beyond the patio, oh, about 25 yards begins the lake. Before it, spread 25 feet apart, two small trees. At the base of these trees - small pumpkins, flowers of all color and vibrancy, plaques, mementos, pictures, balloons. . . All this, carefully, lovingly placed by a mother, a mother who lost her son there. After three days and three nights of search, this 16 year-old boy, who I had never known, who had so much promise, was brought in from the lake to this very place - between the two small trees. I am crying now.

It's been well over two years now. Nobody seems to know the real story. There was a party -a teenager party-at the house right across the lake. I see the house. I wonder about the house. I wonder more about the occupants of that house - the same occupants who allowed alcohol in their house that night. Nobody knows the story - all they had said that the last anybody seen of Jonathan Petit he was staggering away from the house toward the lake. I want to cry now.

Every day, for well over two years now, this dedicated mother, along with her dedicated and beautiful golden retriever come here to this lake, this very lake and pays respect to a son, a loving son who had so much promise, a bright future. Not more than a hundred feet from my window I watch this amazing woman dig up dirt, plant more flowers, arrange carefully the many mementos, the balloons, the little plaques. Many a day I want to cry, some days I do. Someday I will approach her, talk to her, thank her.

Being a rather large lake I must ask myself this: Why is it at this point, less than a hundred feet from my window, where a mother had lost her son? Perhaps a reminder. I want to cry now, turn back the hands. I ask myself. . .

What if, on the day of September 11, 1992 Hurricane Iniki never touched down upon Kauai - the very place where I was to walk into the mighty Pacific without looking back. What if? My mother, too, would most likely join Yvonne Petit and her beautiful golden retriever and mourn the loss of a son - a son who had so much promise, a bright future. What if?

On this day, I thank my many blessings. I am most grateful I have life - the perfect beginning. I wish I could share this with Jonathan Petit - this boy I had never known.

Thanksgiving- a day to be thankful and a day to regret.

I awoke to the wake of dawn
Amidst the Lake
heron duck, geese
and trails of fawn
My first cup, a quick release
-a morning yawn

Before the tree – a mother
on her knees
Praying for the son
who now is gone

Jonathan, too, a brother
touch football upon the lawn
Comforting one another
learning right from wrong
Every day at the wake of dawn
I hear the pulse of a mother
- a heart enrapt in song

By: Ricky J. Fico