Inspiration

Image:

My daughter cries out in her sleep. I roll over. Hoping. Hoping that this will pass. Hoping that I can get away with avoiding this responsibility. Hoping that I am the one having the bad dream.

Next:

My daughter comes up to me and asks that I tie a ribbon around her head...covering her eyes. I ask 'Why do you want this?' She responds, 'Because I do.' Blindfolded she then walks around the apartment...slowly...cautiously curious...seeing the world through her fingertips.

Guilt:

I am the one crying. My daughter comes up to me and gives me a hug. I am torn. Torn between the feeling that I should straighten up, wipe my eyes and bring her into my arms and the urge to crumple under her embrace ... allowing myself to surrender to her ... be protected by her ... let her be the mommy for awhile.

Sorrow:

I remember back. I had a balloon. Given to me by a clown. At a parade. I got out of the car. The balloon was released. I started to cry. I saw my mother's face. I knew that if there was any way she could get that balloon back, she would have done it. She, like me, was helpless. My sadness there because of what I lost. Her sadness there because of what she never had.

Adventure:

My daughter is a part of me. My daughter is her own self. I see bits and pieces of myself within her. I also see a stranger. She moves through life with a determination that I feel I was only able to feign.

Love:

My daughter asked me to dance today.