My Punk-a-dunk is gone. Her Grandma here graciously offered to keep her this weekend with all of her biological grans and it took me all week to muster the courage to let her go…to let go.
I rushed home from the recycling place and my heart dropped when the other car was gone. My Punk-a-dunk was really gone! Gone from me. For 26 months (including the 10 of carrying her) I never been without her. I’ve never been not able to reach out and touch her. Never awaken without her smiling or blissfully sleeping face being one of the first things I see in the morning.
I look forward to that. I look forward to holding her. Nuzzling her. Telling her how much Mommy loves her and thanks God that she is in my life. Not a moment goes by when I don’t think of her or someone asks about her and I recount some adorable tale of her newest venture (“Nuh, nuh, no, no!” or “Mommy! Book” or pointing to the dog in her nursery rhyme book and making “wooh, wooh” sounds or her screaming, “Mommy! Bubbles!”). I relish her taking off running when I say come here (sometimes), or how she’s now started lowering her head and squinting her eyes, mirroring the serious face I give her when I mean business.
Now, she’s in the capable hands of a friend’s mother and I miss her, but I’m excited about getting back to me. Not waking up having to plan out what she needs for the day or what I have to make happen for her. I can spend two whole days focused on me. And I thank God, because I know I’ll be better for her when she comes home as a result of it.
As much as I miss her (and I do miss her dearly!), God willing, I will be letting her go many more times throughout her life. I have to let her go off to school. I will have to let her go out with her friends. On dates…on a date…ok maybe not that! She’ll go off to college or get the heck up out of my house when she turns 18 and I’ll have to make my peace with letting her go. She’ll get married and have her own babies one day and I’ll have to let her go.
This is just the first in a series of let gos, but I did it. And we are ok. I took the wise advice of an elder (thanks Mommy) and put on my “Mood Music,” ran a bubble bath and soaked for the first time in probably 26 months! It felt good. It felt right. It felt like things are just as they are supposed to be.
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I know what u mean. The first time I left Anica, intentionally was for a work related conference and although she had her grandma and caregivers she knew, it was difficult for me to say the least. I think I must've called home a hundred times. The first night I fell into the luxurious hotel bed and slept uninterrupted for the first time in ... I couldn't remember when,I knew this was a good decision and that we would both 'live' and thrive. Shoot, she didn't even seem to miss me when I returned :) Kids!
ReplyDeleteLove ya and enjoy your "mother's day" gift of time. Good going grandma friend :)
Cheree'