Alba. Joy of my life. Fire of my soul. Within those bright, blue eyes is wisdom you couldn’t possibly possess. Your laugh warms me and your cry hurts me like is more than just sound. I spent countless hours imagining you, but all of my imaginings fell short. At two years old you can spend hours just collecting things. Leaves, stones, flowers. You are methodical and focused, a little artist with nimble fingers. You like to pluck your ukelele while I play my guitar and we sing nonsense songs together. I smile while I wonder about 5 year old you, 10 year old you, 22 year old you, and I get a feeling all of my imaginings are falling short all over again. You are incredibly empathetic. When I get hurt you run to me with your eyebrows scrunched together and your arms spread out. “Poor Mama,” you cry out dramatically, “are you okay?” When I ask for a cuddle you wrap your arms around me, kiss my cheek and burrow into my neck. This morning you woke me by saying “You are beautiful Mama. Look, it’s morningday!” and I couldn’t imagine a sweeter way to wake up. We have conversations now and every day you astound me with your words and perspective. You are forever soaking in the world. Once I looked out the window and you were planting seeds in the earth. There is something magic about you, and mostly I wonder if it is just because I am a Mama and you are my daughter. But now and then people tell me they see it too. Like that time Susan Sarandon told me that you have a presence she’d never felt in a child before, or that time the lady on the train told me there was something special about you, she didn’t know what it was she just thought I should know. Right now it is just you and I, but life is full of joy. We stay with sweet families and you spend your days playing with other children. One day when someone joins us again, he won’t just have to be worthy of me, he will have to be worthy of you. But regardless, we are enough on our own. More than enough. You are so easy-going and happy, but you are still a toddler and being a Mama isn’t easy or simple. It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever do. Sometimes I wonder how I was crazy enough to take on this intense and demanding role so young, but then you say “I love you Mama” in that sweet little voice of yours and I know that it’ll get easier and one day you’ll appreciate all of it. My love for you is in written in your blood and built into your bones, it will always be with you. I love you my little Alba.
Posted on: Sun, 07 Sep 2014 12:42:36 +0000
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