Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Big Blue Eyes and Golden Curls





Thirty-eight years ago, a beautiful little girl was born. I was not there, did not participate in that momentous occasion.

 About two years later, her father brought her into my life – all big blue eyes and golden curls. Soon she started calling me Mommy.

And even though her father is no longer in my life, she’s still my little girl. She still calls me Mommy. 

When I remember all those years ago, I think of dance classes, costumes, dress rehearsals, French braided hair.

Blue fingernail polish and Guess jeans. Michael Jackson and Madonna. Cabbage Patch and Strawberry Shortcake.

The olive drab period. The theater. The amazingly beautiful young woman in the purple homecoming dress.

Climbing out the window at midnight to go to Rocky Horror. (Which we probably would have let her go to legitimately if she'd asked)

I remember fighting battles for her and proudly watching her fight her own. I love that she stands up for herself. Maybe I gave that to her.

She’s an amazing mother. A thousand times better than I was when I embarked on the Mommy journey, na├»ve and ill-equipped to know what to do. 

She is strong and confident, sure of who she is and perfectly capable of handling everything that comes her way – and some really ugly things have come her way.

But she overcomes all of them with grace and courage and a quiet strength I don’t think she realizes she possesses.

Thank you for coming into my life, little girl. Thank you for staying there. 

Thank you for calling me Mommy.

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