This morning, when I went upstairs to make the bed, there it was. Neat as a pin. Already pulled together, and with my zillion barkcloth pillows carefully arranged on it too. A secret surprise meant for me to discover later, after she’d already left.
For the zillionth time, I paused and said a silent prayer of thanks that I am so blessed. And again, I was left to wonder, why me? What made me so deserving?
I was no saint in my youth. If blessings were handed out on the basis of merit, I’d be working overtime trying to right the many wrongs of my past.
But still. One peek inside the room with the lime green walls, and the leopard bean bag chair and the stacks of books- and I know it’s true. I am blessed. Amy. My daughter. My beloved.
Deep dark fears? There are too many to name. It’s part of the deal you make when you give your heart away completely. At even the happiest of times, I often sense a shadow passing over the sun, and I shiver.
But then I reach out to hold her hand, or ask her for a hug. Some gesture to bring me back into the sunlight. The present moment. The here and now. Because that’s what matters.
So to those deep, dark fears that lurk in the coldest corners of my mind, hoping and waiting for the chance to stir up one heck of a storm…listen up.
I’m not about to stop working on my suntan any time soon.
This piece was inspired by the Red Dress Club prompt to write a letter to your deepest darkest fear.
What a post! So sweet your bed was made.
ReplyDeleteI was too chicken to do this one. I like to pretend my deepest darkest fears aren't there ;-) Denial. Also, now I need a leopard beanbag chair.
Lisa, I'm definitely a denier too! I may delete this post in a few days because I am really superstitious too.
ReplyDeleteAmy's beanbag chair is really cool:)
I love this post! Seems that so many of us have our deep dark fears around loss, specifically of our most treasured things, our daughters. I wrote mine on a very similar fear. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThank you! It was hard to write this, because of all my fears, this loss is the deepest and darkest. Thank you so much for commenting!
ReplyDelete"I was no saint in my youth. If blessings were handed out on the basis of merit, I’d be working overtime trying to right the many wrongs of my past. " WOW Valerie. Lovely work. I was writing a post with a mother and a daughter and though it was a fiction, I felt those emotions thoroughly. I can only imagine how much strength it must have taken for you to write this. It is so short and yet it is complete.
ReplyDelete"I’m not about to stop working on my suntan any time soon. "---- BRILLIANT
Ratz, thank you, thank you, thank you, SO MUCH for that:)
ReplyDeleteI love the suntan/sunshine analogy. It's a horrible fear, and I can understand your feeling of superstition.
ReplyDeleteYou descriptions of the made bed and her room are so brief yet beautifully full of the kind of person she is.
I really enjoyed this piece.
Thank you! I almost didn't write this, it was so hard to face my fear. Amy is truly the greatest gift I've ever been given:) She is really a beautiful person, too.
ReplyDeleteI love this line - "I’m not about to stop working on my suntan any time soon." Well done!
ReplyDeleteOh, how I can relate. You were quite brave to write this - I don't know if I could without breaking down. There is something about the love we have for our children...and those deep, dark fears...that can at times be almost unbearable.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post. :-)
you captured the overpowering love so well, passionate and worth fighting the fear for!
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing more terrifying than thinking about something happening to one of your children. Nothing. It's paralyzing if we think about it too long.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kelly, Melissa, Jenna and Cheryl!
ReplyDeleteI realize I am not alone with my fear-and sharing it and getting it out in the open hopefully is the fist step in managing it:)
What a sweet girl!
ReplyDeleteWe all fear that kind of loss, but facing up to it, putting it in its place?
Crucial.
I agree C, it's the key to not letting our lives be controlled by it. I just wish it was easier to do sometimes:)
ReplyDeleteI loved the poetic language "deep, dark fears that lurk in the coldest corners of my mind" and the powerful imagery "I’m not about to stop working on my suntan any time soon." in this post.
ReplyDeleteI, too, share this fear (do all mothers?) and you articulated it perfectly here!
Thanks Galit! I think we all do share those same fears-it comes with being a mom-and I don't think we ever stop worrying. Thanks so much for commenting:)
ReplyDeleteOh Valerie, this had me choked up. What a beautiful girl you have and I think you should definitely take a lot of the credit! I know what you mean about the fears and worrying...it's all I do most days. I'm so happy for you my friend that you have such a wonderful daughter. I have no doubt you deserve her as much as she deserves you.
ReplyDeleteThank you, my dear friend:) That is the nicest thing anyone could say-and I still feel so incredibly lucky. Our children make us so blessed:)
ReplyDeleteThis was really beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks Tina:)
ReplyDelete