When I look at you, I see so many things.
I see the baby in my arms the first time I said, “This is my daughter.”
I feel the powerlessness of hearing you cry and not knowing how to comfort you.
I have had to gradually accept that my “Mommy Powers” are somewhat limited. I am not always able to fix it … but I am always able to listen and say, “I care. I’m here.” I can always pray.
I feel every ache and pain, every sniffle, anytime you are sick. I feel when you are cold or hot. It’s strange that some unknown communication system was left behind even after you left my physical body.
I remember all the various smiles and laughs and snuggles we shared. I still delight in your delight. Your smiles and laughs are medicine for my soul.
I look at notes written in toddler handwriting or emails from a college student with equal joy.
I remember first everythings. In solitary moments now, I review them all in my mind. They are my treasures of old age.
I pause and think what a unique creation of God you are. I see some of your Dad. I see some of me. But mostly I just see you, a totally different and unique person.
We do not always view life from the same vantage point. In fact, from the time you could express yourself in words, you made it quite clear you had an opinion of your own that was worth defending.
We each usually hold our ground in an argument, but we never lose the love between us. At the end of any discussion, we still may disagree, but we still love each other.
I see you today and marvel at the young woman you have become … not only a daughter, but a wife, a mother, a career woman … and the list goes on.
I see how many things you are doing well all at the same time. I also see you are too tired to savor the victories. But I see them.
I see you when life pushes you down. My urge will always be to rush in and try to rescue you, but I try to restrain myself, as I know you are in resistance training.
And as you rise again and again, I am the loudest one cheering, and telling everyone who will listen, “I knew she could do it!” I will always be your biggest fan.
October 15th was supposed to be the due date, that day you would make your grand entrance into the world. But we needed a little more time to be together.
We hung on to each other until November 11th. We will always celebrate in November, but it still seems appropriate I should celebrate you today.
It touches me that when you could have had the adoring world, you chose a little more time to be with Mom. So I will celebrate October 15th.
One thing you and I agree on is that celebrations don’t have to be limited to a certain day. Every day is worth celebrating God’s Gifts.
And you, my daughter, are that. You are God’s Gift.
This is the day that The Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!