Thursday, March 17, 2011

A Poet


(Taken another morning)

Before the sun awoke, the birds and I began our day- I more bleary eyed than they sounded. I began my morning alone, fully aware of my promise, but postponing our routine for a few moments so I could be more present and alert. I pushed against the exhaustion after a long night with Addison and then I heard her. Wild, desperate, afraid, "MAMA!" Caiden, trying to separate dream from reality, she called, fearful I had forgotten my word and left without waking her. Rushing into her room, I barely hit my knees before she had jumped into my arms. Tears fell and soaked warm into my sweater. It was all a bad dream. She clung to me- Mother and Daughter finding comfort in each other's arms. And then without an explanation, she disentangled herself and disappeared. She returned with Ballerina Rabbit in hand (the muse for her first and only book), her notebook and a pencil. I brushed my hair and she untangled her emotions. Cross legged on the bathroom floor, she worked hard bending over her paper, eyes squinty, lips pursed. "Mama, how do you spell worried?" As I ordered the letters, she scratched them out on the page. "How do you spell Pirates?" My curiosity piqued, I leaned over, but she guarded her words. They were not yet ready to be shared. When the finishing touches where put onto some illustrations, she shared her heart. So vulnerable.

"Sad Caiden
Not Saf(e)
Worried
Pirates
Wok(e) up
Loved"

(Parentheses show letters she omitted. Can you tell we've been reading a lot of poetry lately? =))

A Gift. Every moment.


On the days I work, Caiden and I have a routine. I go in, climb into her bottom bunk with her to snuggle for a few minutes. Then she follows me into the bathroom where I turn off the light and turn on the lamp to soften the harshness of the morning. While I straighten, brush, and make myself presentable, we talk. Every night before comes the same entreaty, "Wake me up before you leave Mama. Let me watch you get ready. I want to spend time with you before you leave Mama. Promise?" And every night before, I promise and I shake her hand making a deal. I am not a morning person. But I am a person my daughter loves. May she wake up every morning just as she awoke today- Loved.

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