And, Just Like That

And just like that, nineteen years ago on Labor Day weekend, I went into labor with Bennie Irene.  Oh, the irony…

I was 28 years old and completely scared out of my mind to have my very first child only five months after I had lost my mother to cancer.  Yet, there was no escaping the task at hand.  It was the single most hardest thing I had ever endured…not having her by my side as Bennie came into this world.  Here is some truth, ya’ll…..I never wanted children….or at least, not until I knew my mother was dying.  I wanted to gift her just one glimpse of her grandchild before she passed.  Unfortunately, the clock beat me.  Oh the irony…

And, just like that…

Looking down at the brand new soft little peach-fuzzy person in my arms, I smiled and whispered, “Hi little momma…we did it!  And guess what?!  When you graduate and head off to college, I will be 47 years old!  That’s a very long time away!”  And, just like that….Brandon and I dropped her off at college last weekend and I am forty fucking seven years old.  All of those jokes about giving her empty cardboard boxes as a graduation present, I take back.  Did she really think I meant for her to pack her shit and leave me?!?  I was just kidding.  Oh the irony…

And just like that…she is leaving.  She is going but she is not gone.  She is just arriving.  And she is arriving in the most prepared vessel a mother could provide.

My letter to you

To you, Bennie Irene, I say, “Hey rock star, thank you for being one of the two best daughters a mother could have.  You made me a better person by constantly reminding me I was good enough to raise three incredible children.  You made me believe I could do it.  We will miss your presence back home.  Although it was such a short time, I enjoyed being responsible for you as you grew into the badass you are now…and will continue to be.

I will always be here for you no matter where you are, what you are doing, or what you need.  Thank you for making it easy to be your mom and loving me and all of my imperfections.  Thank you for accepting me just as I am and never being ashamed or embarrassed of me.  I will always be proud of you, believe in you, and support you.  More importantly, I will always love you.  We will see you at Thanksgiving with a batch of stinky deviled eggs….just for my little stinker.”  Oh the irony…