A letter to my baby girl, who isn’t so little anymore,
Tonight I had the chance to rock you to sleep in the same chair I used to spend most of my nights in. Your tears used to soak my nightgown as I rocked you into a deep sleep, while you nursed to your belly’s content. Those nights seem so long ago, yet so ingrained in my soul of how we first fell in love. Your eyes found mine in the dark of the night, and we became friends, you and me. I got to know you in that rocking chair. The same one I sat in tonight, and remembered how we first loved…and tonight I loved you just the same.
Your legs are a bit longer, your heart a lot larger, and your face much more bright with joy… but you are still my baby girl. Since you have grown, my need to nurture you has not changed. I’m sorry if all my hugs are constraining to you, I still need to hug you, just as you were years ago. Needing me for every little thing.
I used to listen to you breathing in that rocking chair, now I lean over you to kiss you goodnight and listen to that same sound. I swear that your breathing is in rhythm with my heartbeat. I love you in waves, each one stronger than the last. More powerful crashing than the first time I met you on my chest. Eager to hold you until forever.
As you grow older, my love for you will only get bigger. My need to kiss your sweet cheeks and twirl your blonde curly hair will only get stronger, because my love for you will never grow weary.
As you hold up your hands to show me your age , I will only see you just as you are right now. My girl that twirls in her favorite dress. The one that brings me weeds and calls them beautiful flowers, and the one that repeatedly tells me how special I am to her.
No matter your age, I will always want to rock my little girl. I will always want to braid your hair, and paint your toenails to match mine. No matter the number of fingers you hold up, I will forever remember those nights I was your only comfort. Those long nights were the ones that made me fall in love with you a million times, although it was hard to see it through my droopy eyes.
I now know who I was always meant to be. Your Momma. Your rocking chair.
That rocking chair I will keep. When things fade away, and furniture grows old I will hold tight to the chair that bonded me with the life I gave. That chair I will share with my Grandchildren, as I hold them tight, and remember the scent of their parents, my babies.