She looked at the way her eyes smiled,
And thought about how she took out her frustration
At her husband's disorganized closet
By joking, "It's no wonder that you can't find your belt,"
Before rolling her eyes in that passive-aggressive way.
And she realized: "I've become my mother."
This a jolt, though not unexpected, to the girl
who can't sew on buttons
or buy car insurance by herself,
and still takes the train home on weekends.
"But today," said she, "I am no longer a child."
Casting crutches aside,
vowing to learn how to change a tire,
relying on new friends and new hobbies -
piano, books, free museum days -
and not coming home until Christmas.