Thirty years ago on Mother’s Day I was home with her dad experiencing early stages of labor. Two weeks over-due the little dumpling was arriving in true stubborn, Taurus, style–life lived on her terms, in her time. But when Monday May 13th arrived and the hands of the clock struck high-noon, Emily took her first breath.
I remember being in my room at the hospital later that day, holding her and realizing that it was the first time I really knew what it felt like to truly love someone. That was my daughter’s gift was to me. But I heard my inner, intuitive voice for the first time and it said: “You will never see her grow up.” So paired with the deep feeling of love was an immediate terror of something happening to this precious human I held in my arms.
Witnessing her grow into a feisty, wild child I was assured she could take care of herself. I allowed her to choose her clothes from a very early age. Her love of wearing large polka dots and stripes horrified my mother. Years later, when she was graduating from Auburn and fussing over her clothes matching exactly, I smiled at my mother and reminded her that Emily turned out just fine in the fashion realm.
She went from playing soccer as a five year old with shin guards that covered almost her entire legs and where the kids moved as one group of tiny ants to a high school player whose team negotiated complicated maneuvers…at least they were to me. I still don’t know soccer rules. I recall her being pushed to the ground and breaking her wrist in a high school game. My mother bear instincts had to be tempered as I sat helplessly in the stands watching her suffer.
Never did I have to ask if she did her homework…never. Not even in kindergarten. Emily was a self-starter and whizzed through school, including courses like calculus that she thought were fun and I thought of as foreign language from another planet. Her degree in Microbiology from Auburn amazed me, the mom who loved writing and photography…thankfully no calculus was needed in my degrees from Auburn.
Then two years ago my little girl got married to a wonderful guy. The time leading up to the wedding, the actual event and afterwards I spent much time reflecting on our lives. I realized I never really saw her grow up.
Thankfully the inner voice’s message that was heard the day she was born wasn’t referring to her physical life. What I missed was the day-to-day triumphs of her growth and becoming. Not because I wasn’t there but because I didn’t see.
Perhaps as parents we become too involved in surviving financially or emotionally to notice the really important stuff. I know I contributed to her life and was a good mom, but everyday stresses distracted me from being the mom I wanted to be for her.
A child of a thousand questions who always wanted to know more about everything and every situation she encountered, Emily’s birth launched me onto a path of deep, personal growth. Her gift to me was showing me that I could love deeply. My gift to her was showing her that nothing is more important than becoming the light we are born to be…and doing whatever inner work is necessary to find it.
She turns thirty tomorrow and it seems like yesterday she was born….my daughter, my teacher.
On the second dive I felt such bliss…slowly drifting along, communing with the Ocean and all life on the reef. I was completely relaxed and in harmony with the underwater world, my gear and myself. I think this is a key to every mermaid’s happiness and success.
