For my girls

Dear Maya and Lila,

 My sweet, sweet girls.  You are so precious to me.

Lila, you are 16 months old,  and you have just started walking.  Uncle Robert came to visit for three days, and on the second day you took two steps. On the third day, right before he left, you took four steps.  I don't think you even realized that you were doing it.  You were just looking ahead and it was clear that you were thinking about something, and you took four steps.

Maya, you are turning six on Sunday.  You only have one week left of kindergarten.  You have been identified as gifted this year,  as I knew you would be, however, your behavior is still that of a five-year-old.  You are doing math on a fifth grade level.  You read on a fourth grade level.  Yet, you cry at the slightest provocation. Sometimes I think you do this to get a reaction out of me;  sometimes, I think you do it because you really mean it.  The problem is, it's very hard to tell the difference.

You started kindergarten a whole week late because grandma died on the 18th of August unexpectedly.  That was and probably always will be the strangest day of my life, yet, I knew it was  exactly as it should have been.  In the time since she has died, you have mentioned her many times.  Most of the time, you mentioned her because of selfish reasons such as she will never send me packages again;  but sometimes you mention her for unselfish reasons like Lila will never know her.  You cry, and I try to console you, but, at the same time, I don't know how to because I feel exactly the same way.

 Your best friends have moved to Tennessee.  The boy you have known since you were 15 months old and have spent at least 2 to 3 times a week with for the past two years is gone from your life.

 You and I have experienced so much loss in the past nine months.  I will never know for whom it is more difficult, the child who is only five who has lost her greatest advocate and her greatest friend or the woman who is 36 and will never again physically see the woman who gave her life.

 My dearest, adorable, most wonderful Lila: You will never know for yourself what you have lost, but Maya and I will try to tell you. You will never know the joy of receiving a package from grandma in the mail, but Maya will tell you how important it made her feel. You will never know how exciting it was for grandma to visit because you knew she was bringing you a plethora of new books, but you will still reap the benefits because neither Maya nor I have ever let go of those books, and I see how much you love them on a daily basis.

 Though Maya no longer has need of baby books or infantile stories, she reads them to you every day, and she enjoys them  because you do. It never ceases to amaze me how excited she gets when you laugh, and she goes out of her way to make you laugh.  She is truly a wonderful big sister, and I hope that she will always remain a better big sister than I have ever been.

My sweet baby; you, more than anyone, has lost the most. You will never get to know the person who gave me life, who wanted me and desired me and brought me into this world.  Sadly, neither of you will ever know my grandmother, the woman who knew before I was ever born that I would be the baby girl that she had always wanted.  She wanted her daughter to have a little girl to love and cherish just as my mother wanted that for me.

 If my life can possibly be an example to either of my daughters, it will be that you will have many friends in your lives;  you will love many people,  and people will love you,  but no one will ever love you as much as your mother.  Once you realize this – how much a mother truly loves her child – I hope that it will not be too late, as it was for me.  I hope that you will find, before such a tragedy occurs that your mother should pass, a true and loving friend in your own flesh and blood; that of your sister whose life was brought about specifically for you by the person who loved you the most.

What does my grief look like?

Fire all consuming
with an emptiness -
The world is upside down
until the sinews of my life
break like threads in
a rusty needle.

I am the one inside the proverbial haystack.
No one is looking for me.
They are all lost in their own
piles of straw.

These waves of change
flood the plain of our existence
making it hard to breathe
consuming all the oxygen
until there is only
the tightness in my chest.

I can bang against my chest
but no amount of violence
will bring back
what has been

taken?

lost?

voluntarily resolved,
returned from whence she came.

An open letter to my mother

Dear Momma,

I miss you. I pray for you almost every night and think of you fondly every day. I really wish we had had more time together. I had hoped you'd get to see my girls grow up.

I am confident now that you are in a better place - a place where you can continue to grow and learn in a way I can barely fathom. I am truly happy for you. I thank you for the life you gave me, for the sacrifices you made for me. I hope I can do the same for my girls.

You know daddy, Robert, Jean, and I barely talk anymore. With the exception of dad, I have little knowledge of what goes on in my siblings' lives. You always told me what they were doing whether I wanted you to or not. You were always the one who kept your own siblings together.

I know you wanted the three of us to be closer. I'm not sure why it has not been possible. The closest the three of us EVER were was while you lay dying last August. It was as if we all had one mind when it came to you and very little else in common.

I hope you are spending time with your baby brother. I miss Uncle Ed, too. He was the coolest of the three of you. You were the strongest and John was the weakest. It seems strange he is the only one left, but Doris needs him. Perhaps he will grow stronger for her now.

I love you very much, and I truly hope we can be together again soon in a more perfect world.

Love,
Dawn


A poem for her

I told you all about
the dirty little secrets
I hid in my bones
kept buried deep in the recesses
of my being.

I dragged them out one by one
from the shadows and placed them
before you:
My shame, my fear, my failings.

You looked upon them, nodded,
brushed a thoughtful finger over the dust
wrapped them tenderly in your arms.

All the while you looked me in the eyes
Your smile never faltered
That knowing, lopsided smile.

You placed my dirty secrets in
the waste bin and said,
"All is forgiven."
Then,
"What do you plan to do now?"

All the years I trembled
fearing your reaction, your
disappointment in me.
How very foolish of me.
You who have known me inside and out
all my life
in whose body my soul first sought refuge
As if my silly flaws could
escape the notice of a loving
mother.

Because you taught me to never
go to bed angry;
to tell the truth no matter how painful;
to love unconditionally, and, that,
in the end,
family is all you have.