I have done so many things in my life and times.
I have traveled across the United States and lived in San Francisco. I have spit off the Golden Gate Bridge and worked for a company that won an Oscar. I have laughed and loved and cried. I have lost a brother and a mother. I have been a wife, a sister, an aunt, a friend.
But none of those things compare to what I am now…a Mother. I never knew how this would feel. I never understood the saying “I would die for you”, not really. Now I do. I never understood wanting so badly to give your child the world. Now I do.
She delights me, amazes me, frustrates me, makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts, makes me cry, teaches me, makes my heart overflow with love, refuses to clean her room, never stops talking, drives me crazy, fills me with a miraculous joy, lights up my life.
She loves to bake, to dance, to sing, to perform in plays, to read, to play video games, to watch silly reality TV, to eat, to pretend, to swim, to be outside. She prefers mushrooms to chocolate. She loves to snuggle and still believes hugs from me will fix any hurt.
She is smart, caring, beautiful; inside and out, inventive, curious, kind, a champion of the underdog, intuitive, a dreamer. She refuses to use plastic bags, she believes in causes, she wants to change the world. She believes anything is possible.† She is such a good God girl, she has so much faith.† When I listen to her prayers I am so touched by the things she prays for.
She sees the world as a wondrous place and almost every day she claps her hands and jumps up and down with excitement. She believes in fairies and magic and Santa Claus and the tooth fairy. She makes me believe in them also. She has a definite sense of right and wrong. She absolutely hates to hurt anyone feelings. She is not just a “glass half full” kinda girl; she is a ìgive me some water and I will fill it upî kinda girl. She refuses to say bad words; which, to her, is butt, dang, crap. I call her my little nun.
She could have her leg cut off and refuse to cry. She wants to be tough; she thinks she has to be tough. This is not something I have taught her, it is just who she is. She thinks she must take care of me, and I tell her I am the one taking care of her. However, in some of my darkest moments she is there like a light beckoning me to her. I couldn’t have survived my Mother’s death without her.
She can be wise beyond her years one minute and playing with her dolls the next. She is a beautiful mix of young and old. The sound of her laughter is the sweetest music I have ever heard.
I am her teacher, but she has taught me so much. She has taught me how to be completely unselfish, how to love unconditionally, how to put someone else’s well being above my own. She is my life, my world.
I love you so much my baby girl. To Pluto and back…
Mommy
