On a typical New York February winter evening, you decided you were ready to make your appearance. And that you did my daughter. You barely let me get to the hospital, so of course you weren’t waiting for me to get out of triage. 22 years later still, the show starts when you’re ready. As you have been preparing to bring your own little girl into this world, I’ve been deep in my thoughts. I continue to play your delivery in my head. Before you took your first breath, you had this strength like nothing I’d witnessed. Your birth was your grand entrance, you would make yourself known. So beautiful, chubby cheeks, slanted eyes and jet black hair.. the bruising on your face from such a quick delivery and yet still the only newborn who stood out in the nursery.
19 and my second child, I was so scared of what your grandfather would say. I think I made it to seven months gestation when your grandparents confronted me in their kitchen asking me my due date! What a surprise to them finding out you were almost here. By the end of that conversation, your grandpa had already picked a name. It was clear, Bianca, picked by my Dad for you. As often as I didn’t listen, this time I did. He picked a name that fit and that I love, as though he sealed you with his kiss.
A mother doesn’t struggle alone, her struggles become her child’s at no fault of their own…
I know as your mother that you haven’t had it easy… and that you’ve often had to be my strong. Living with your mothers constant mood swings, I never could get a handle on. I know behind the small talk, there’s a lot inside you carry. I could care less and forget the “missing manual on how to parent” because you’re my daughter and if i could go back in time , so much I would do. I wouldn’t have mistaken your sadness as being sassy, much needed admiration as attention seeking, displaced anger as defiance and emotions unattended to as aloofness.
What I think of most, each time you’d pull away from my arms, given another chance I wouldn’t let you go. I would have been more patient and held on, even if it meant sitting next to your locked bedroom door.
I would have, I should have… because I was that same little girl. I knew what you needed, knew what you craved.. and instead of meeting your needs, often I’d fly into a rage. I should have never told you to stop singing and given you much more praise. How selfish of me, that voice of an angel, I too often made you bury away.
An adult now with your own baby girl on the way. Your on your own and independent, don’t need me, why would you when I’m a mom who pushed my daughter away.
If I haven’t told you lately, there’s something I need to say. You have grown into an amazing woman, and I think of you each day. You will continue do great things in this world. An amazing mother you will be. No matter how old you become or where you are, my little girl you’ll always be. If I haven’t told you lately, I’m so proud of you. Mom loves you in ways I can’t explain. I know you’ll be the best mother, as you know what a daughter’s heart craves. And when she’s older, gramma will tell stories about her mom that persevered becoming the brave woman she is today.
My daughter, don’t let the past and others wrongdoings be a burden you carry inside. You have so much going for you.. don’t harbor any hatred inside . I know the roads been long and weary, still a ways to go. I pray my father travels along you , lighting a path from above, where that leads, he only knows. My wish for you is love and laughter as you start this new journey in life. Allow yourself to be loved and keep a smile on your perfect face. You’ve made it through the worst of times, now starts much better days.