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Here With You

mother and daughter on grass Photo by Daria Obymaha on Pexels.com

Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home.
Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home.
Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home.
Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home.
Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home.
Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home.
Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home.
Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home.
Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home.
Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home.
Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, magic for the neighborhood, I'm home.
Sister Circus, top hat and wand, little sis' assistant, the spell that makes big sis' disappear, I'm home. (Especially to find big sis' safely stowed away under the bed).
Delight to hear one more song, see one more dance routine, I'm home.
Tucked in bed to read Curious Little Kitten, Jamberry, and the book where the bear is only half of himself at the edge of the page, an 'Oh no, he's broken!'  I'm home.
The look of broken as you navigate the teen years, learning that it is only my perspective on it all, just like the broken bear, who isn't really broken, he is just hidden from view in the ether of the imaginary rest of the page. Learning to imagine the rest of the page, to see in the dark, to question broken. Scouring the universe for a new home to give you. Not finding it. Wondering what home is again?
Pushing you out of the nest, while simultaneously pulling you back in, learning you have long embarked on a quest to find home for you. Learning the feeling of home with you is scripted to change faster than I am ready for.
You find homes in other homes with other moms, and I delight and mourn, learning home will expand to the radius of wherever is home for you.
One day literal home feels shattered by kitchen renovations and mental and physical distance, but nighttime dreams bring me to that closeness of home with you, learning home lives within me, and in the quiet of sleep, it bubbles to the surface, has me write poetry that reveals.
I know home because of you. It is seeded in me to become a great old growth forest, giving me shelter and resources for survival to weather the storms. Learning to find a home in me from echoes of the home you showed me.
Readying me to let you go in a more final way to build homes of your own, to house your own, however that will look. 
'Here with you' looks different, but feels like it still lives on in a timeless place. 
The kind of place where the love is boundless and forgiving.
In quiet moments I feel this love reaching back to find me, to give me echoes of the home I felt here with you.
Learning home is not just related to physical proximity, or time spent together, but resides in an eternal love and wonder of having watched you take your first breath, in getting to know you, and watch you grow, of existing along side you, of receiving the uniqueness of you. I'm home.
Here with you, lives on forever in my heart, because we lived it together.
Together gives life everlasting.
I love you,
Mom

Happy Mother's Day💐



Comments

  1. Beautiful! So good to be reminded of my own journeys home. Thank you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. As always, thank you for reading and responding, Elizabeth. You've reminded me of so many journeys home.

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