Roots that keep me grounded. Wings so I may soar.
Tag: mom
First day jitters
“Good luck on your first day of school honey!” my mom yelled from the kitchen. Today would have been five years since cancer took her away from me.
Momma is in the Mirror
When I was a child, I had this reoccurring nightmare that my mother was replaced with a doppelganger. It wasn’t until I was 14 that I realized she was… when I saw her staring into the mirror smiling and winking at my screaming mother.
Finally Proud
She lay in bed, staring in wonder at the cover of her first book in print, and with a sleepy, soft prayer to heaven and tears in her eyes, she said, “I hope you are proud of me now, Mom.”
When her heavy eyelids closed, she was still in that place between being awake and dreaming, and she heard a soft, distant whispering in her ear say, “I always was.”
Letting Go
She took the training wheels off of her daughter’s bicycle that morning, knowing she would have to give her a push later to get started and then let her child ride or fall, while she held her breath, watching.
“Wheeeeeee, Mom, this is fun!”