Roses from Daddy

Umm, ok…one word, three syllables, hmmm…it’s the little dot at the end of a sentence. Yes! You got it! A period.

The younger of our two daughters got her first visit from her new, monthly friend yesterday evening. I know every family observes things differently but, here in our very female-oriented family (I have five sisters and only one brother, as did my mom also have one brother and four sisters), this is sort of a big deal.

The most impressive part of last night, however, was not the usual hugs from her aunties (two of whom happened to be here during the “big event”), and it wasn’t the phone calls made to Grandma and the other aunts, and it wasn’t the smiles from her older sister and female cousins, and it wasn’t the look of disgust on the face of her big brother, and it wasn’t even the arms of her mama wrapped around her in a congratulatory moment…

The most poignant moment came a few hours later, when her handsome, amazing, and loving father came home from a hard-day’s work with a dozen roses in hand. Although the call that he’d received from me just a few hours before was concrete confirmation that the days of pigtails and little, ruffled dresses were now a definite memory (and I know that is a hard pill for him to swallow), he handled the news with poise and grace. This transitions is, after-all, not one just for the girl…but also for the daddy that used to change her diapers, kiss her baby-face, and make silly faces in order to hear the glorious music of her little girl laughter.

Now, that high-pitched, happy squeal has been replaced with the content and lovely smile of a young lady…still in response to her daddy though, as he so protectively hands her a bouquet of beautiful, red roses.

I love you, Dee Dee…I’m proud of you, Daddy 🙂

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Bittersweet Blessings

This weekend was so simultaneously happy and sad. We celebrated the twelfth year in the life of our beautiful Destiny (and yes, she is our destiny)…and in the same weekend we gathered around our mama, doing our best to support her broken spirit, as she observed the first anniversary of her own mama’s passing.

So many emotions in just the span of a weekend, the flexibility of my heart being tested as it so rapidly swayed from one extreme to the other…but I suppose that happiness is sweeter once you have tasted sadness, and life’s most important details are far more recognizable once you have the bittersweet experience of witnessing a loved one’s final breath.

Even in the saddest moments of the last three days, I found myself feeling just as blessed as I felt during the highpoint of the same days’ laughter. Just as my soul drank the fulfillment of another year to celebrate my daughter being alive, I felt an equal amount of God’s grace celebrating the memories of my Grandmother’s life. That is an awesome thing indeed!

I thank You, Father, for so many things. Just to have been given the clarity to recognize the miracle of the entire journey is a huge gift in itself. But to see life captured in its small, still moments is the sweetest of perspectives. These are some of the photographs my mind took (and stored in my forever memory bank) this weekend:

* Remembering the way I used to reach my right hand back to the car-seat behind me, as I drove with my left, in order to hold the tiny hand of my daughter…WHILE actually holding her (bigger than mine now) hand as she sat next to me in the passenger seat, on our way to her birthday lunch date.

* Witnessing, first hand, how well-liked Destiny is as girl, after girl, after girl appeared at the front door, ready to help her celebrate her birthday…and then realizing that she is well-liked because she is a genuinely good person, as she stopped the festivities several times just to hug me and make sure I knew how much she appreciated her party.

* The pure and raw empowermentI felt on the way to my mom’s on Sunday. I looked in my rear-view mirror to see my sister, Debra, in the car behind me and then I immediately looked ahead of me to see the beginning of this convoy – Nickie, then April, then Darla, in that order and each in their own cars, all of us heading to the same destination with a common purpose – to offer the same comfort to our mother that she has, no doubt, given to each of us on several occasions.

I am truly honored, humbled, and thankful today. I just wanted to share that with everyone and encourage each of you to also focus on not just the big picture – but on all the tiny moments that make the whole thing possible. Life, huh? What a blessing.

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Wordless Wednesday…”Track Meet Tuesday”

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My Dearest Summer

My Dearest Summer,

It’s been so long since we were together and your absence is really taking its toll on the family. The kids miss you more than I can say and they keep asking when you’ll return. I just keep telling them that you are a world traveler, and that you are currently very busy in the southern hemisphere. I let them know that you will come back to us as soon as you can, but that doesn’t seem to ease their suffering.

I am very aware of the responsibility you have to bring joy to others and that you must spread yourself very thin to accomplish this goal, but the selfishness in me arises every time I remember the way you hugged us with your warmth and kissed us with your breeze. I grow resentful of the others now enjoying your presence, every time your sparkling waters and delicious barbeques come to mind. Why can’t you just hurry back to us?! I’m not one to beg but…Please?

In the meantime, we will do our best to survive Winter and Spring’s visit. Although I like Spring much better than Winter, and I appreciate the several rainbows she shared with us yesterday, Spring is still just a little too rainy for our taste. I always love to see the newborn buds forming on Spring’s trees, but I’m more looking forward to the shade of your tree’s leaves.

Until we meet again, I will have to be comforted by the memories we share…and until it’s time for us to make new memories, my family and I will be not so patiently waiting!

Sincerely Yours, Donna

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Happy Birthday, Mamacita!

The pain was excruciating. I wrestled with the option of an epidural but, since it took so much of the natural instincts away from me during my first delivery, I decided against it. I wanted to see how much of a difference it would make with the pushing. For a short while, what seemed an eternity though, I was pretty sure I had made a mistake in judgement. To this day, my sisters still laugh at the insanity I displayed in the delivery room…”I’m gonna go crazy, I’m going crazy!” I kept repeating, face becoming more flushed with each contraction, sweat accumulating and rolling down my forehead.

Just four hours since the very first inclination that this may be the day…we met our first daughter. My immediate response, one I obviously shared with the beautiful women surrounding me (as noted by the gasps that simultaneously filled the air), was of the sheer size of this little (big) girl that we had waited so long for (she weighed in at 9lb., 6oz.). My husband’s first reaction was an apology issued to his new daughter as it dawned on him that she had his nose, lol. For the record, I love his nose.

As the room became filled with a melody of tears, by a chorus of emotional, new (again) aunties and our mother, my newborn daughter was being nestled down into my arms. My bare chest providing her with warmth, as well as proving that her rooting instincts were more than intact as she quickly latched on for her first feeding. My own tears mixing with the sweat on my face, the two becoming intertwined. My husband, still caressing my hair, kissing my cheek, whispering in my ear…”Good job, Mama.” Our pride and gratitude so immense, it seemed impossible they could ever grow bigger.

Fourteen years later…

We are proved wrong. That pride and gratitude somehow multiplying with each and every breath our little (big) girl has taken during the lifetime she’s had so far, accumulating continually for the past five thousand, one hundred and thirteen days.

We love you, Mamacita! Our lives would be incomplete without the blessing of you, our first daughter, second born, precious and amazing gift. Happy birthday, Baby Girl. I pray with all my might for many, many more.

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