I closed out another journal this morning. Here’s an entry from earlier this year, written after a particularly painful evening of parenting.
Oh ten-year-old girl with the rages and rolling eyes, the cry and play of a child, the body and mind leaning towards adulthood. You are loved, and lovely. You are unpredictable, awkward, unkind, collapsible. Headstrong, indecisive, brilliant and naive.
I, young one, am your mother. I am wise and baffled. Patient and irritated. I love you. I do not always like you.
I am not old and wise enough to never feel pain at your unkindnesses. (No, that’s not where wisdom would be found. Love feels the pain. Wisdom – and love again – can reach beyond it, to embrace you, to envision you in truth, a child-woman writhing in growing pains.)
Sleep tonight, my small darling. Sleep and be refreshed. You are not in-between two realities. You are fully functioning, smack-dab in the center of one reality, this one, the reality of your living self at age ten-and-one-half. And I am honored to know you here and now.
So good, so touching, so sweetly commited to our lovely little lady.
Thanks my favorite father! Well, you know, there are other days where the commitment is less sweet and more gritted-teeth 🙂
Thank you! Good reminder as we now have a 9 year old…so close to 10! I love your writing.
Thank you Sarah.