I’m going to keep a folder of notes from my daughter, notes that are so poignant, so ‘heart-on-the-sleeve’ emotional that I see through the difficult behaviors to the core of our love, the elemental mother-daughter bond at the heart of our relationship. For the days when she thinks she hates me and I think I hate my life. When I forget the soft little heart beating in that proud little chest. When I forget the absolute honor of mothering fragile little beings.
In the eyes of my daughter, I am loved just because I am. And simply being makes her life good and awesome like it is. If only I could live such affirmation every moment of my waking and breathing.