Monday, August 30, 2010
First Day, Rube.
You take me to the center of the earth and back again. My chest rises and falls with life's rhythm and I can see you, dancing with your heart pumping, illustrating mermaid booklets, brushing your teeth with your skinny spare arm pumping like a chicken wing.
You were incredibly excited and confident and 100% ready. I made it about a half hour after drop off before I lost it. Ruby, with your heart open like a barn door, off to school on your first day.
I checked in on you tonight. You had just fallen asleep. You had taken your pajamas off and were double-wrapped in your comforter, stripped down to your underwear, sweating thickly. Your hair stuck to your neck. I straightened you out and gave your pores some space to breathe.
I came here and sat down and saw these photos and cried. A mama has never loved a daughter like you. You are a surprise, a shock, some unexpected cash found in my pocket.
I can't stop this filmstrip flashing through my head of times to come when you'll be away for a lot longer. But for now, I'll relax. It's only kindergarten.
xoxoxoxoxo times a thousand.