Wednesday, October 19, 2011

"Mommy, mommy, mommy..."

*photo of me and my Gracie last summer in Rockport Mass.

Grace wakes up in the night day that is early October mornings. She's found our bed (like she always does) in the middle of the night. I'm sure that's why my dreams improve... she steals in and snuggles close, as babies do, and sunshine pours into my abstract, anxiety riddled dreams.

I'm already getting ready for work. I leave early these days and come home late. I'd not seen her off to sleep the previous nights. It makes her waking up demand that much harder on my heart.

She's in the rumpled down comforter. She's warm and bathed in the orange glow of the salt lamp night light we keep on for them. (When they all leave us, I'm sure we'll keep it lit. The ghosts of their little selves should not be allowed to trip on the way to our bed.)

She wakes and sees me in the closet getting dressed. Fumbling in the half dark with a pair of too small tights.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy..." she whispers. But it's a whisper laced with dreadful need.
I toss the tights and go toward the bed. I have to be careful not to get too close, because if my head finds her sweet soft, still baby fine hair, I'll never leave. I'll stay with her entangled. Mother and daughter. A perfect Picasso.

I give her my hand, though she's straining to pull me into her arms.

"I love you,"I say.
"I love you too, mommy. Come back to bed. It's still night."
"No, darling. It's early morning and mommy has to go to work."
She lets my hand go without a fight. She understands it's no use. Mommy and work are the same thing.

And I didn't want to let her hand go. I wanted to scoop her up and run away to a place where time stops and she never gets bigger. Not forever... just a few years of make up love. Make up mornings. Make up snoozy, lazy, entangled rainy days.

I'll be home after she's asleep. Another day gone. I miss you Gracie.

Love mommy,


  1. I feel this. Every.single.morning.

    Why is it that we must barter our time away?


    Beautifully written.

  2. Beautifully expressed. You eloquence is stunning. The moments just seem to slip away too quickly.