Saturday was Prom Day....Kate's first. I truly tried to share her excitement. It was more than a little hard. It's always hard to let go, to get through those rites of passage. We as parents all understand. We as parents learn to get through them. I shared in the dress selection. I loved her choice. We looked for shoes and earrings. We talked about hair and make-up. We arranged photography. We discussed her night...her dinner plans, her curfew. We planned. We laughed. We yelled.
Saturday morning came. Prom Day was here. I slept in, but only briefly. So much to be done. Should teens who can't drive go to prom? I suppose that's for another blog. But, as I awoke, in my groggy dreaming of more sleep state, I was startled by two huge brown eyes with their beautiful gold flecks and long, thick lashes staring hard into mine. We were almost nose to nose, Kate and I. My beautiful daughter, she of the prom, had silently, secretly crawled into bed beside her worried mom and was staring intently.....waiting for me to wake....waiting for me to share. The hush spoke volumes, for Kate had done this when she was little....staring hard as I slept, until I on some level felt her stare.....she not saying anything....waiting....eyes saying everything. My mother always said she had never seen a child love her mother more than Kate loved me. And in this tiny moment before this biggest day, I feel that. Her eyes say it all.
I was reminded that although my daughter is going to prom and although I sometimes feel her slipping away, there are those times even now....those moments in time when she is still my precious child....this one I waited forty years for.....this child born of loss and pain, of struggle and tears but at the same time of conviction and strength and resolve and faith....this child who shares so many of those same attributes...my Kate.
She sometimes doesn't understand why my love is so hard. She sometimes doesn't understand why my answer is no or why my expectations are high. Frankly, I don't care. My mother's love was hard. My daughter will one day realize, as I have of mine, that her mother wants so very much for her and sees how very special she is. For even through my groggy, blurry morning eyes, I see the dancers in hers. I know she can do anything. I just pray those dancers are always there, in those deep gold brown windows to her soul. I hope she finds her way. I hope many, many mornings begin with her staring at her sleeping mom....waiting for my wakening to share her day.....her moment in time.
Note: The phrase "dancers in her eyes" is borrowed from a lyric of the new band Autopilot. My nephew Carr, soon to be featured by Dee, is a member.
