A Note to My First Born

When you were born, the joy that accompanied your arrival filled a hole in your father’s and my hearts that we weren't aware even existed.  We felt as if we were bubbling over with so much love and excitement that we didn’t quite understand the intensity of these feelings or where they had come from.

Over time I came to realize that not only did you fill that hole, but you owned that piece of my heart.  When you felt joy, I magically felt it too.  When you were sad or uncontrollably cranky, screaming until your face turned a rainbow of colors, I felt cranky and wanted to scream right along with you.  Unfortunately for me it was, and still is, not socially acceptable for a grown woman to flail her arms and throw her head back, screaming at full volume when the moment strikes.

Throughout your early years you challenged me in every emotional way.  When you stamped your feet and attempted to exert your independence, I stood my ground (most of the time), desperately trying to NOT stamp my own feet in reaction, and tried to show that I knew better than you, even with your cute, chubby little cheeks and expanding vocabulary.

Throughout school there was many-a-battle, ranging from homework and grades to sleepovers and activities.  You always KNEW you knew best…until the occasion when the report card said otherwise.  We butted heads a plenty, usually arriving at a middle ground somewhere between total restriction from all activities and complete freedom.  Emotions became so entangled that sometimes it was difficult to tell who was angry and who was hurt…more likely it was both at the same time.  One heart feeling everything at once.

Yesterday we took you to your college dorm with a van packed to full capacity with your belongings and various personal trappings.  In anticipation my heart hurt for you, hoping that all your dreams would come true.  Yet everything seemed so perfect.  So happy you were, to set up a place that was all yours with friends who belong to you.  All of your tomorrows so full of potential and oozing with the future and countless things to come.  

We, however, were forced to leave and drive westward onto the highway in a van with one gaping extra empty seat, leaving that place of learning you now call home.  Against my better judgment I felt that hole in my heart opening up just a little, kind of like that empty van seat, the newly empty space stinging with a twang of loss, pain and longing.

But today, as we message and share with one-another, I feel that heart-hole filling up with the stories and pictures you are sending my way of your adventures.  Your friends who make you laugh and help you figure out how to hang your decorations in your new home give me hope.  Your new pals who need your help to solve the biggest problem of the day:  How to prop your door open with a spatula so that more friends will walk across the threshold of your lives to expand your world.  Your total excitement about learning new things, meeting new people and having new experiences fills my heart with contentment.

You go, girl!  My heart grows with yours.