The Colors of a Mothers Perspective

My mind is a whirlwind of noise and color
That I for the life of me
Cannot seem to comprehend.
These reds and greens
Clash behind my eyelids so violently
That the sight is deafening
And the sound has left me blind to my emotions
I am numb.
I am speaking.
I am remembering.

When I think back
I can still recall the faint pinks and blues
That swirled around me
As her eyes fluttered open for the first time.
The rapid beating of her heart ceasing
As I trailed
Soft lavender kisses down her rosy cheeks
I still recall
The hitch in my breath,
As I stared down
At this small life that I – I – had created.

I close my eyes to blink away the yellow tears
That fall gently onto my tired face,
Only to open them again to find
That I am still in the hospital,
But it is not I who lay in the bed before me
It is her.
She is bigger now.
Her usual beaming face
Has been painted an angry red
As she screams and reaches out her arms for me
As if my holding her would make all of the bad
Go away
And I reach,
But she slips from my fingers
As they sweep her away from me
And through the ugly brown doors
To the operating room
I close my eyes.

She is older now
And as I look at her
Standing atop the green step stool
That couldn’t have been more than
Six inches high she grins,
Her command clear in her eyes
Watch me.
And oh, I watch.

I am afraid that if I blink
More time will go by.
If I close my eyes I will miss
The moments that I wish so desperately
To hold on to
But I blink and suddenly
She is gone.

Where she is does not worry me
For she is safe
In the gentle embrace of her grandmother.
I am only sad that it was not my embrace
She was safe in.

I am sad that I could not witness
Her golden curls
Bouncing and the white lace of her dress
Trail behind her as she tossed
Petals of pink and yellow
Across the aisle as she smiled,
Barely containing the excitement pumping
Through her veins
I blink.

She is still not with me.
It is her decision.
I let her make the choice
Because I know that she will choose right
For she is smart.
Do you want to come with me?
I blink hoping to move past this memory
Because it hurts my heart
To know that she chose
To go with her grandmother
Where I hoped she’d go in the first place.
That’s okay. Mommy still loves you.

I squeeze my eyes shut.
The black in my heart
Makes it hard to
Focus.
However when I open them again she is with me,
Back in my arms where she belongs
But something is not right here
I am screaming.
Streams of violet and red come from my throat
As I try to understand the warning
In the back of my mind
Why is she here and not with her grandmother?
Why is she following my footsteps
So closely?

And suddenly I am screaming
And she is screaming back
Her colors confused and angry and sad and
Broken
I want to fix you sweetheart
But you have got to
Let mommy in
I blink.

She is much older now
And she is still in my arms
With green and black tears
Staining her face
And I cannot simply brush them away
Because stains are hard to get out
So I hold her.
My sweet thing is so broken
And I cannot pinpoint the source of her pain
So I hold her.

I close my eyes
And go to kiss the top of her head
But she is no longer with me.
She is with nobody.
I should have seen this coming
I should have been more prepared for this moment
When she became her own person
But I didn’t realize…
I didn’t realize she had been her own person for a
Long time now.

I try to reach her but I can’t.
I try to intertwine our colors once more
Filling in the spaces where some of hers
Are missing
Giving her everything
Even if it leaves me with nothing.
And she leaves me with nothing.

I want to scream at her so I do.
I grab her and scream at her
And shake her
Because I want her to understand that I am on
Her side
And I am always going to be on her side.
I closed my eyes
To blink away tears and she is in someone else’s arms.

How dare this boy
Take my baby away from me?
What right does he have?
And I see flashes of white and red
And I am still screaming at her.

I love you don’t you understand?
And she doesn’t.
Not completely.
And I know she won’t until she has
Her own baby who has her own colors.
Until she is forced
To see red and green and black and blue
And cry
And ache for what she created.
But I love her.
God I love her.