Little Girls

I have this fear that one day I won't be here. Its inevitable, right? I have this fear that my daughter will miss out on the stories of her childhood and will have questions that her mom will not be able to answer. I was an adult when my mom died but after I had my daughter, I missed my mom even more and wondered did I do that when I was a baby, when did I learn to walk or talk and did I have a favorite song?

 Like fragments of a dream not quite able to see the full picture I remember: she would sing My Bonnie, she called us her little bambooshka's and I could always tell when, I heard her humming from the other room that, she was in a good mood and that would be a good time to ask for something I wanted. She knew how to embarrass me and make me angry with 7 little words "with cheeks as soft as rose petals." I remember her lasagna that was always my favorite, the rest of her cooking was only so-so. I even remember that one time we were on a family vacation in N.C. and she locked the keys in the car and it was so hot out and she made me wait outside with her in the heat while standing on blacktop. At the time I was so mad at her, but now it one of the "good" memories I have. The "good" memories are the hard ones for me to remember, its almost like grasping at straws. The not so good memories are there too, I could probably remember those easier but I try harder to keep them forgotten. . . I even remember my 18th birthday, I skipped school that day just because I was 18 and could. I was surprised when she didn't get mad but suggested the two of us take a trip to Mansfield for some lunch at Olive Garden. She made me stop at the Christian book store before heading home, it was one of her favorite places to "just look." She wanted to buy me something for my birthday, I thought "really mom at the Christian book store? The mall is just across the street." She let me pick out a necklace, very simple chain (which has since been broke and replaced and re broken) with a trinity symbol charm. I still have that charm and it means more to me then any other piece of jewelry I own. I value these memories and am grateful for them.

But still, I have this fear that one day I won't be here. I fear my daughter will wonder and have questions for her mom and they will go unanswered. I've had this fear even before she was born. Because I'm afraid I will leave her unprepared and with questions, I began writing in a journal for her. I haven't been as dedicated as I had hopes for, I'm lucky if I remember to write in it even once a month. I pray for God to continually prepare me to be who I need to be for my daughter and to give her a life full of good memories. All I can do is pray and do my best with what my mom has taught me.

I love my growing little girl. I don't know how it happened but somewhere along the way, over night I think, she is no longer my baby-baby. I value the rare times she lets me hold her and give her hugs and kisses and just lets me hold her. My heart melts every time her face lights up when she sees me and when she puts her arms around my neck and gives me the best hugs I've ever had. I love how frustrated she makes me when she pulls all the movies out on the floor and how upset she gets when I don't let her eat as many gold fish crackers as she would like. I love how she can spend so much time just flipping through a book and how much she likes bath time. I absolutely just love my little girl and now I can fully understand how much my mom loved me.