I’ve not been a balls-to-the-wall tough mother. I’ve been a fair one. And I’ve raised a human being so exceptional, my heart outbursts through raw tear ducts. She’s moving out this week, the baby girl I’d brought home swaddled nineteen years ago. Nineteen years…may as well been just one of the bastards. I wish time had a heart of its own; maybe then, time would slow down and relish the small moments. Because it’s the small moments that ultimately mean the most in life–the moments you didn’t photograph or video record. It’s the quiet moments you end up missing the most–the nights your baby couldn’t drift off, so you played your favorite album and danced her to sleep. There’s nothing more beautiful, more peaceful than your sweet one enveloped in your arms.
Growing up, I never dreamt of motherhood. But motherhood happened. And motherhood saved my life. That is absolutely meant to be taken literally. Motherhood saved my life. For you Christians, if Jesus first saved my soul, then Nicole saved my actual being. I didn’t know what living was until I had no real choice but to live–and live well. Not that I was bad news, just that I was raised by bad news. I feel awful saying that my mother was bad news. She wasn’t all bad. But she’d long been ruined by her own parents, and so it is truly amazing I came out of my childhood, and survived teendumb so that I could raise a human being so exceptional, my heart outbursts through raw tear ducts.
Many of you know by now that I am not particularly religious, though I do believe in a higher force–positive energy–especially regarding the birth of daughter. If you haven’t read the memoir, and you want to know me better, click here. (I like to share bits of me because I believe in the power of human connection.)
My darling girl is moving into her own place this week–a bittersweet milestone in my life. For Nicole, it’s the beginning of many beginnings. I feel a little childish feeling so low because she’s only moving a mile away. But it’s a mile away from my arms. A mile away from my eyes. I will miss her morning face. I will miss going to her room to tell her something funny. I will miss hugging her goodnight.
It’s been a bitch of a month.
I appreciate all of you who’ve been here for me. Much love ❤