July 8, 2016
To My Children, As I Grasp At What Is True.
You are everything.
As Mary cherished these things in her heart,
so I cherished
the two pink lines that told me you were more than a hope.
The notion of you,
before you entered the world and left the safety of my womb.
I fretted over you before you ever came to be.
I dreamt about who you would become.
I felt the knitting needles
forming you in my body with such care and precision.
I endured so much to bring you into my arms.
When our eyes met for the first time,
when you instinctively attached yourself to my breast,
and my body knew just what to do to nourish you,
everything I have ever known and loved and seen made sense.
Your body forms the boundaries of my world.
Your toes. Your belly. Your nose.
The sweet dip in the back of your neck that I bury my face in and just inhale, inhale, inhale
as if I could breathe you right back into me, where I know you will never be hurt or scared.
Your body carries in it my entire heart, infinity upon infinity of love and hope and expectation.
But I know that you don’t just belong to me.
You belong to this world.
And this world can, and will, wound and scar you.
Your precious, innocent, hopeful body and spirit.
And I want to tell you that I’m sorry.
Listen to me: I want you to love, no matter what.
I want you to know that every human being came to be just as you did.
Every creature is cherished.
And if my love could radiate out from you, someday, I will have done one right thing.