some days it feels like that is all I accomplish-the cleansing of my eyes, or crying to be exact. But there is a story in every teardrop and a bit of love or laughter, as well. By the end of the story, I may have cried a river, but it is rippled with laughter and its banks are covered with beautiful flowers and greens. Why?
Because there is love every teardrop.
Every teardrop has a story-from the first when I found out I was going to have you-I was scared and excited, but mostly scared. I was young and not in a traditional relationship, but you were made out of love and that is all I knew and all that mattered to me. I knew God was blessing me with you and we would find a way.
There were many teardrops, as you grew-your first boo-boo, your first haircut, your first stay over at a friend's house, your first day of school, I cried more than you did. I remember the first time you were scolded for touching the figurines on the shelves in the living room. You were so little, and you looked so contrite. You never had to be reminded a second time, about the figurines. I wish all the lessons in your life had been that easy, love. But it was not to be.
You had soft golden hair as a little girl and the bluest eyes, that would eventually turn blue green with a golden sparkle. People would stop me when you in a stroller, you were so beautiful. You were always a soft spoken, little bit of a thing with a big smile. You loved your PaPa and MiMi is the absolute most favorite person in your life. I will admit, that bothered me as a young mother because I felt like I could never measure up. As I grew older, I began to respect her qualities instead of fearing them, and it made it better watching your world revolve around a woman other than myself. At last, I found the reason why you loved her so-
MiMi is very lovable!
As I watched you grow up and into your own person, I wasn't sure I knew who the woman was you were becoming. Strong and independent, and yet young and full of life's craziness. Our worlds were miles apart and somehow we drifted for a while. I was intimidated by your strength and courage, not very good traits for a mother, I know, but once I told you what was in my heart, you seemed to understand and we built a new relationship. You taught me about loving myself, and once again the parent became the student.
The truth was, when you did need me to be a mother, I wasn't really there like I should have been, emotionally-I was pre-occupied. Then, when I did figure it out to some degree, you didn't need me, your life was in control and on a roll! Somewhere, we met in the middle, and reconnected, and I am ever so grateful for those years.
Those were the years of cuddling and blanket time I missed when you were younger. So, when you called and needed a snuggle some nights, I found that to be perfectly okay. Some folks may have thought it to be a little strange, but that's what happens, when people don't have the whole picture, or like my dad used to say..that's what happens when people think too much. I am grateful we could heal our relationship and I got to love you and snuggle you, and you gave me the chance to do it later in life. Dear God, you are such a sweet blessing to me. Tears I cried have formed the sweetest puddles of memories. You are safely tucked in my heart until we meet again, and our story will never end, just like tears in a pond, only makes for a deeper, bluer pond..
And I will always remember to pray and keep the faith, because I know the power of prayer and faith as a mother grieves.