Ending and Beginning of Things


Today marks the end of an era. I am officially the mother of grown kids. “WE. MADE. IT!” is my slogan because it was a long journey. But this is about womanhood and seasons ending and beginning.

Over the past year, The Girl has helped me connect to the deep love mothers have for their daughters. Yes, there were times she needed to be read for filth, but this year, this blossoming into womanhood for her and mature womanhood for me allowed me to also connect to my mom. It’s a brand new time for both of us.

When she started senior year, I couldn’t count down fast enough. Active motherhood felt like this chasm between us. I wanted to tell her what I wish someone would have told 18-year-old me. I couldn’t wait to be her Maternal Consultant.

And then one day I woke up with this… this… rock in my stomach. I wasn’t ready. I thought about all the things I missed, some of the insensitive and mean things people said and basically that I failed her in some way because I was always looking at the future instead of right now.

Then I saw her. I saw my daughter. I saw the young woman she’d become and that she heard me. I saw her trying out her voice, drawing some boundaries. I remembered all the “I did exactly what you said and….” I saw every time her face lit up when I picked her up, her smile (sometimes her annoyance if I was late). I saw her as a young teenager, pre-teen, little girl, toddler and baby. I cried. I mourned this metamorphosis that I sometimes wasn’t present in because I wanted to protect her. I grieved the unknown. It was cathartic.

I celebrate my daughter. I love her, through silence, stank face, a million ‘moooooooooom’ Hangout messages and 10 million Snapchat stories while I’m driving. I look forward to watching her evolve into whoever she wants to be. And I hope by now she knows that I’m always going to be in her corner cheering, threatening, protecting and giving unsolicited advice as long as we’re both alive.

Thank you, Chica.


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