My second daughter. When you were born, I was so happy. When we started our family, even before you were born, I so badly wanted a daughter. I so desperately wanted a daughter that I decided all my children were going to be sons. I decided that because I wanted to be excited no matter what. When your sister was born a girl named Arianna instead of the boy named Graham that we were so sure "he" would be, I was beyond euphoric.
Then I became pregnant a second time. I expected my first boy- the one who would become Arianna's brother. But I dreamed of sisters. My sisters had always meant the world to me- sanity, laughter, companionship, learning, shelter, safety, understanding, compassion. I wanted all that for my girls too.
You came out with a huge, ginormous scream, my baby girl.
My very, very pretty, sensitive baby girl.
My little girlie with the tummy troubles, the soft curls, and the tender heart.
You learned to ride your bike when you were four. What an awesome feeling of freedom and independence!
You've always been a sensitive soul- caring about people in your life, worrying about their well being.
And deliciously in love with felines. Just like your mama.
And you kept growing up.
And today you got your drivers license.
There are certain events in a mother's life that feel profound. That call out to be noticed, observed, celebrated and talked about. This afternoon when you came back from your test and we heard the "pass", I felt a scene change on the stage of life.
There isn't a trip to the city that I regret taking with you. There isn't a moment of driving practise that I would take back now if I could.
These are the good old days. Right now. Every moment we choose to celebrate relationship over "rightness", every time we choose to spend our time paying attention to what would reassure our daughters and sons, and every second of our lives that we decide to stay right in the moment: these are the seconds that string into years that stretches into lifetime.
As you begin to move away from me, sweet Jane, there will always be strands that hold us eternally together.
You've made me proud and happy.
My daughter Jane.