It never fails.
When things get hard, I wonder why I was given you. You, with your black eyes, and intense
heart. You, with your endless legs
and eternal fight. You, a bear in
lamb’s gloves. Whomever thought I
was brave enough, fast enough of a mother to follow your quick wings, and care
for your wild heart, didn’t know how much I would struggle. Quickly I have learned -------
There is no easy parenting.
I often wonder how I can mother all your strength and
pounding beauty. I wake up
drenched; grappling for that endless ribbon from your eyes to my heart. I strain to follow. And trust. Trust in the deep contradiction that you come from me, yet
aren’t mine. Trust that the world
chose me to be your mother. Trust
that in the sometimes-messy-stew of parenting fierce and independent you, there are moments of deep
peace. Quiet. Connection. Even shine. And
trust that slowly, I am learning to be thankful for your thunder, your
growl, your glow. For you teach me
things no one else in this world ever could.
You, my daughter. My wild daughter of seven.
Love this! Beautifully written. Beautiful daughter :) Mine is only five but your words touch me deeply.
ReplyDeleteShe is lovely. I can tell she has a wild streak : ) What a great post detailing her day.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on your feature this morning on Little Bellows. I love your fog picture. Absolutely stunning.
I'm not sure how I came across your blog but I am in love. You are a beautiful writer and your photos...they make me pause. Maybe because I have a wild daughter of seven of my own. So happy to have found your little corner on the web. xo
ReplyDelete