Ode To My Mother

Years of trying
Years of tears
Years of hope
And then, finally,
Motherhood. 

The birth of two twin baby girls.
It seems like just yesterday, we were children.
Learning how to speak,
By the shapes of your sounds.

And then, quick as a hiccup,
We were on our feet
Exploring the small world we knew 
Safe and wondrous, because of you.

Three blinks and we’re off to school
Learning of so many things we will forget and remember, 
Prioritizing memories. 
Not knowing that our school days will fade like fog into the background, and that our sharpened sense of life will center around home. 

Four more blinks and Four more moves.
Like is getting harder now, and we’re growing through it.
You fight for the things you want for your life, for our life, and you never stop.
We find our path, it’s clunky but it’s ours,
And we hug more tightly than we ever have on your sisters porch
Before calling it home again for a little while.

Junior year, already?
You’re letting go, or rather,
I’m growing right out of your arms.
And just like that, I’m off to college,
In one more blink, I’m in Chicago,
Just for a while, blink,
Or maybe forever…
And I miss you all the time.

It rained last night and I awoke to fragments of nostalgic dreams… they exposed hidden beauty from years ago, like a washed rock at a beach.
Layers of evidence of a life lived.
And I closed my eyes to try and hold onto them tightly, to feel it all again for just one more minute, 
And like a strobe of lights, a rush of everything, they sang to me through images:

Blink.
Three-wheel bikes in parking lots, 
Raining candy days, parades,
A dog named lady, back to life,
And Shirley temples, all the time, 

Blink.
Full of fields and fireflies 
Of starry nights and swimming pools
And gardens and summer days, 
With clouds that hung like art
Of Sunday comics, swinging through our laughter on porch swings 

Blink. 
Rolling down hills, grass stains
Snow days down mountains, cocoa
Smiling and screaming at the top of our lungs
Two wheel bikes, pain and then freedom 

Blink. 
The thrill of thunder, storms
Powers out, candles and flashlight games 
Playgrounds and monkey bars
Climbing to high and callouses 

Blink.
Car rides and Perry and car rides, repeat Weekends and window shopping
Bad music and groundings and booze in a bottle 
Thick eyeliner and yard work and Chinese for dinner 

Blink.
Hugging and crying and college dorms
Missing and thinking and lunches downtown 
Talking and secrets and understanding 
Hugging and crying and Chicago moves
FaceTime and visits and recipes 
Walking and talking and lifetimes shared, no secrets held, all on the floor

A daughter and motherhood turned to friendship, 

Blink. Blink. Blink. Today.
And I love you in all of these ways. 

For everything you were to me, for everything you are, and for everything you will be. Thank you for paving a beautiful life for me.