Tuesday, 5 February 2008


My daughter has left me. My daughter got married last year and didnt invite me. My daughter will be 21 tomorrow. It's going to be a bad day, I can feel it already.

She is my first-born and I can remember her first hours as if they happened yesterday. I can remember the wonder of this perfect miniature human being given into my care. I remember lying in the hospital bed with her in my arms and staying awake all night with the wonder of it. The perfectness of this being. The sheer beauty of her, in every minute detail. The emptiness of my body and the fullness of my heart. I felt quite lonely, being physically empty of her, not feeling her inside me any longer but having her in my arms instead. I understood the awfulness of miscarriage at that point. I would have killed for that child. Any threat to her and I would have killed. Undeniably. Even her father seemed superfluous now, his job done? He was in the way and somehow too huge and course and a caricature, my eyes were attuned to the tiny and helpless and delicate and he was too real and I didn't want to see him. That didnt last very long. Mother Nature is a wonderful and terrible thing. A force to be reckoned with.

Now it is me that is superfluous, an unwelcome appendage to her life. Even though my heart is bursting in my chest with the unjustice of the situation and the unhappiness of this, there is nothing I can do. Nothing I can fix. The child has formed her own ideas of her mistreatment at my hands without telling me of the reasons or the rhymes of her heart. I have no idea of what ails her, of what it is that is so huge and immediate for her. Without her input, I am helpless. I wait. I wait for her to be ready to talk, to confide, to accuse. I welcome it all, an end to the Cold War, to the overwhelming silence of her accusation, I want to hear it all, to be saturated with her presence once again. She is a part of me, flesh of my flesh - how "religious" and old-fashioned that sounds.

She was a wonder to me all the time of her growing up, so quick, so smart, so innocent and complete. So moral and independant. A beautiful person. My child. I was so proud of her. And although desperately hurt by her choices, I am so very proud of her still. The independance, the gall, the willfulness she displays is awesome, truly awesome. I have to stay until she is ready to come back. I just hope she doesn't leave it too long. This is my wail into the ether, to the Universe, "Come back soon, child of my heart".


Flibbertigibbet said...

I read this through. Once. Twice.
Still I didn't find words.
Because sometimes there just aren't any.
This frustrates me.
But, sometimes nothing is enough. Not words, not a hug, not the love of another.
Not when your heart is single-minded as it must be in this.

I sincerely hope that the time comes soon for her to return x

Carrie said...

This was not Nothing and it is Enough. It is an acknowledgement of pain. A connection made across a vast distance. A connection woman to woman, human heart to human heart. Thank you.