They say becoming a mother is one of the most defining moments of a woman’s life. It represents the true meaning of love, unconditional love, uncontaminated love.
I can feel our love for each other in every bone, touch and tear. I can feel the very rhythm of our connection. I feel it in the sound of my beating heart reminding me....”you are still alive.”
I want to live.
I want a life.
I want to live for this gift that sees all that good in you. This little person loves you no matter what. You realize no one can replace a mother. I am important to her. I am her world. I must try to improve yourself in order to make all the little moments count because they mean everything to her, to me.
I may feel replaceable, unworthy and a burden to everyone... not my daughter. My daughter’s opinion will always be different.
She can not be persuaded.
I must simply try harder. Try, try, try.
She tells me how beautiful I am, gives me little notes and gifts to cheer me up. I need
to be around for a long time.
My child knows me. She knows my inner workings and the facade of the public appearance yet private disparity. She knows my mangled and damaged heart. She knows my imperfections. She knows my interrupted, broken spirit. Nevertheless, she still loves me.
I want to show her the world. Help her see how very special she is. I respect her but want her respect. Teach her integrity and truth yet I do not know them myself. I want to show her my best that is in me but am crippled.
It is my job to nurture her and to make every second count.
I am not deserving but I want to be.
She senses my pain even when I think i have hidden it flawlessly.
She never gives up on me.
She is intuitive and compassionate. So gracious.. so unique. I admire her. I respect her. I trust her. It is only a privilege to be her mother.
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