Skip to main content

A big day...

As I stand here, looking at an empty room, the moment is very real. There's no more talking about "one day" or "soon" or making plans. The day is here. Right now. The day my daughter has moved out. I remember every little decor phase she went through, the colors the walls have been, how excited she was to have such a big room and all the plans she had for it. I remember hearing the giggles fill up the room when she had sleepovers, and the glitter explosion from hell that I'm pretty sure is still embedded in the carpet somewhere. I can still hear her footsteps early on Christmas morning, coming out with her brother to get their stockings.

No more will I hear her beautiful singing from down the hall, the blaring music when she took a shower, the "Oh my God, mom, mom, mom, listen..." as she runs out of her room to spill the latest T with me. No more will she come home from work, and sit on me like a giant lap dog because she's had a long day and just needed her mom. No more leg sweep take-downs in the kitchen, no more headlock defense with Daddy while he pretends to try and steal her food. My heart is heavy with the passing of an era, my sweet Bitto is growing up and starting a new era of her own.

While every ounce of me misses her already, which my brain knows is ridiculous because if she still lived here, she wouldn't be home right now anyway, I'm happy to see her excited about her life. About growth and change, about starting her life as an adult. I know her fiance will learn to never speak to her within the first 15 minutes of her being awake. She'll learn to actually fold her clothes and put them in a dresser. She'll discover the joy you have getting sheets and towels for birthdays, because that crap is expensive. She'll become a wife, and he'll become a husband, and together they'll figure out how to maneuver life as adults, doing it together.

She will forever be my baby girl, my sweet daughter who used to make snow angels in the backyard in her pink Dora coat, and this will always be her home even when she has her own. As much as I love her, as much as I miss her, I know that she's ready to start this new journey. She's always been an independent girl, "I do it myself, mama!" kinda kid. Well, here you are baby, you're doing it yourself. I hope that you remember the lessons we've tried to teach you, even when you didn't want to listen to them. I hope that you make wiser choices than we did when we were younger, and that you seek out wisdom as you go. I hope you know that you're always welcome here, that your smile will still light up our home. I hope you remember that when you fall, God will always be there to help pick you back up. I hope you flourish, I hope you find the path God leads you to and embrace it, because you'll have so much more joy than you can even imagine. I hope she remembers that nothing will ever change our love for her. I hope...

My baby girl, my Bitto, you are my sunshine, now go and light up the world with the talents God's given you...





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The path I didn't plan on taking...

Mom was 36 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember on her short treatment days she let me come with her, because by that point I did everything with her. Doctors appointments, tests, treatments. Where she went, I went. Whether she wanted me to or not. The oncologist administered the treatments at his office, in this dingy little room in the basement that looked like death row for cancer patients. Ugly pleather recliners lined the walls of the small room, you could hardly breathe through the dense desperation in the air. As if everyone was just waiting. Waiting to die. At that age, I thought that would never happen to me. As I grew older, I feared that would be me. When I turned 36 I was horrified it would be me; thinking that would be the start of my impending doom. My death sentence. The year I would be diagnosed with breast cancer. But that birthday came and went without a diagnosis, and I almost felt victorious, like I had made it. I had beat this thing that had at...
3 comments
Read more

I look like a cancer patient

It's not like I didn't know it was coming, like somehow I would be spared the inevitable. Every day, as I run my fingers through the shaved fuzz on my head, I look at my hand wondering, is today the day? Is today the start of another transformation? Is today the day I look like a cancer patient? And as I looked down at an empty hand, I exhaled. Today wasn't the day. Today, people would only still wonder, was I a patient, did I shave my head in support of a patient, was I a feminist trying to prove a point? They could only wonder. The other night while my husband was at his bible study I was sitting on the patio, taking in all the fresh air I can before the air turns too cool to sit outside, forcing me indoors. I took a long breath, ran my hand across my head, and looked down at my palm, covered in hair. Today was the day... I blew the handful of fuzz off my hand, and then pinched a small cluster and pulled. I felt nothing, it didn't hurt, but there between my finger...
3 comments
Read more

I can't hear you, what are you even saying??

So God and me, we have this deal you see. I tell him I'll listen to him and trust his plan, but he just has to be very clear and very loud when telling me what to do. You know, because maybe sometimes I'm a little hard of hearing, have headphones on, am a little stubborn, or I'm not listening and just didn't realize it. So I ask him to be loud. Like, really loud, so his voice is louder than all the crap  fluttering through my brain. Sometimes it takes a hot minute, but usually the message gets through, and then I thank him for the help in scooting me along his path. But lately, I'm just not gettin' the message. The last few weeks, either in quiet times, casual reading, Facebook, everywhere, the same verses keep popping up. 2  Dear brothers and sisters, [ a ]  when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.   3  For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.   4  So let it grow,...
2 comments
Read more