Last night as I was waiting to go to sleep, I started to think of my oldest daughter. Her birthday is tomorrow. Her birthday gets to me each year. It gets to me because she is getting older and I know that I cannot be old enough to have a daughter her age.
Yes, this is a personal post. I am truly feeling sorry for myself today. You see, when I think of my darling daughter, I see her with her Shirley Temple curls falling down her back. I see her with her tiny tap shoes tapping with her Grandpa, laughing with him.
I see her standing in front of our full length mirror talking to herself. I see her poking chubby fingers into the side of the crib talking to her ‘seester’. I see her many ways.
Today, she is the mother of Little Miss. A good mom. A partner to a Navy man. She has done what I have had to do. Hold down the fort. Keep the home fires burning. Take care of the house and it’s occupants. She does it well.
Yes, I am very proud of her, and yet, with each passing year as I watch her grow in grace and maturity, I feel a bit older. So, my dear daughter, my first-born, Happy Birthday! I am proud to be your Mom, but, this making me feel older has to stop! I still feel like I am your age, not mine! I pray your day is filled with the very best. Laughter with Little Miss and her Daddy and lots of hugs and kisses from them too. Thanks for being you and for teaching me what motherhood is about. Love you.