Mother, May I?
Photo by: Liv Bruce
There is no end to motherhood. There is always a beginning. But, never an end. To think, without you, I would have never experienced such a perspective. How different my life would be—how different I would be. My mind struggles to envision such a life, because I cannot imagine mine without you. I close my eyes, and still, I can hear your blissful giggles.
I will not lie, the early days were hard. Sleepless nights, continually wondering if I was doing everything right. You smiled at me, the equivalence of a good pat on the back. I couldn’t be doing that bad. But then, you spit up on me as I lifted you into the air. A humbling experience, to say the least.
I could hardly believe it when you started to walk. Just yesterday you were learning to crawl, wasn’t it yesterday? In a moment’s breath you were on the run. The world was endless to you, there was nothing to fear. Though, I preferred that you not jump quite that far. My heart froze, my arms extended. I never knew I could move that fast. You looked up at me all bright-eyed, as if there were never a moment of danger because mother was near.
“Mother, may I climb that tree?” you asked, pointing to another.
“Of course,” I said, while silently praying. I had one gray hair for every tree you’ve ever climbed. My hair was not as long, nor was it as sleek as it once was. Despite what was said, it was not because of you. It was because I blinked and years had gone by. You’d climb anything. You’d run and you’d laugh. But, it was not always so pleasant. There were moments that your world had been shattered, and my heart longed to pick up the pieces.
“Mother, will you sit with me?”
I wanted to scoop you up, cradle you in my arms like the day I brought you home. Where had those days gone? They felt so foreign, so distant. You were no longer just learning to walk. The world had begun to tear holes in your veil. I could see the innocence of your happiness grow dull, and the threat of a gray-scaled world loomed behind you. There were times that I didn’t say the right things. There were times that I failed you. But, there was never a time that I stopped loving you.
“Of course,” I said. I could feel the words cut through the air—stripping what was left in my lungs. And so, I sat with you. Silence filled the room. For hours we sat side by side, not a word shared between us. Tears filled your eyes and you leaned your head on my shoulder. If only I could take away the pains of the world.
It was not long before I blinked again and you were nearly grown. The adventures you pursued became about discovery. I watched you start a band, go to college, change majors. So little did I get to see you, and so frequent I brought back the memories I held dear. It was time for you to find your place in the world. A place only you can fill. Gone were the days of sleepless nights. Gone were the days of scraped knees and climbing trees. Gone were the days of holding you close. But, as you grew and you explored, I saw the color return to your eyes.
“Mother, may I have this dance?” you asked.
I adjusted your bowtie and took hold of your hand. You’d grown so strong, so confident. I could not help but tear up. “Of course,” I said.
Now you have a family of your own. Little hands pull on your pant leg. Tiny fingers filled with food, cover your sofa. There is not a corner without a well-loved toy, not a place untouched. You experience the fear of a new world, kiss the scrapes that come along the way. Yet, to me it is as if I am watching time wind backwards. I am gifted the opportunity to see you rediscover joy in climbing trees, experience life from the eyes of a child. It awakens you, mends your veil.
My soul is filled as a smile stretches across your face. It is a deep smile, a true smile, a smile from the depths of your heart. It is the smile of a father, taught by the love of a mother—a gift come full circle.
“Grandma, may I have another cookie?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said with a wink. We’ve each entered a new chapter in our life. Though, mine nears its close, a mother’s life never truly ends, does it?