Skip to main content

a letter to my daughter.

dear a,

time is a fickle friend.  never trust it.  as you grow it will seem as if the time passes slowly, your years marked by half and quarter birthdays, each day you will wake up with the sunshine in your hair and the possibility of the entire day in front of you.  you will wish it away, wanting to be older so you can stay up later, go out with your friends, start to drive, go to college, and then you hopefully will one day have children and time becomes an enemy robbing you of your days, the minutes and hours ticking by faster than you can count.

wasn't it just yesterday you were still curled up in my belly?  kicking me and making all sort of alien movements from the outside?  wasn't it just yesterday i met you for the first time.  your little fists curled into tight balls, your blue eyes closed against the harsh hospital lights.

tonight i held you and you feel asleep in my arms for the first time without being nursed to sleep.  you laid you head right on my heart and i sang you song after song until you fell asleep.  i think we both knew it was something the other person needed.  my lullabies ran out after skidamarink and you are my sunshine so i eventually was singing the lines i know from patience, we didn't start the fire and ain't no mountain high enough.  your lanky legs were splaid out over my legs, your stomach warm against my stomach.  your breathe gentle on my chest.  we've known each other for eleven months darling girl and i would be lying if i said my heart didn't ache for the moments that have passed.  your newborn gummy smiles, your first giggles and how proud you were when you learned to sit up.

you call me and daddy by name now, although it is funny you say "mom" and "dad" more than momma or dada.  i want so badly to freeze you as you are right now, beautiful and perfect, so proud and mischevious but starting to be such a good listener.  we are on the cusp of toddlerhood and as the nights tick by and make my sleeping baby a little older it is hard not to be sad.  but baby, i hope you know how excited i am for our future together.  to know that we will share so many more years together.  i promise to always always always be there for you.  i won't ever leave you or stop loving you.  you are my joy and my heart, one of my biggest reasons for waking up in the morning and certainly the reason i have a smile on my face when i do.

i love you baby, for all of time and beyond,
xoxoxxxxx
your mom.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable
THAT IT WOULDN'T AFFECT ME


there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…

life we expect over life we're given

one of the undying truths i have discovered through this process is that few of us live the life we imagine.  sure, some do.  but most have speed bumps thrown their way throughout life.  whether it's a divorce or death or financial insecurity, many start over, many rebuild, many take stock throughout their thirties, forties, fifties and think "well this isn't where i thought i would be"



granted... all things considered, mine is more tragic than most.  even outside of these most recent events my life has seen its fill of trying circumstances.  by the age of eight i had seen abuse and death in my family.  not exactly what you would hope for, but certainly it has given me the coping mechanisms i have now.  

as i navigate these next steps, the great unknown, there are many that have opinions and voices into my life.  everyone wants what's best for me and everyone has their own idea of what that is.
people... i don't even know what that is.  but i know what i want…

dating in 2016, also huge LOL at even posting this.

Half of me can’t even believe I am writing this post.  Dating is gruesome, isn’t it?  Like most of life, I suppose.
The weekend that Jim died I was standing there, a wreck, while my phone was blowing up.  Alayne goes “who is texting you so much?”
I respond “oh those are just my tinder matches” 
and I know that not everybody gets the hilarity and all I can say is until you are in the fire, you don’t see the need for a respite from getting burned.
anyways, i was talking to my therapist about dating and i commented “single, widowed mom, sole custody of two kids… it’s a tough sell” and it is.  
i have this story that literally leaves people speechless.  most people when they hear it don’t even really know how to interact with me much less get involved romantically.  and i know eventually it won’t be such a big part of my identity, this widowed, grieving mom, but right now it is and if i want anything to do with the person then it’s like they have to know it.  
again, it’s a tough sell.