Missing my daughter

I wish I could make time stand still, just for a moment, let me breathe this all in before I move on. I can't keep up. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Or maybe the sense of urgency in everything is brought on by a capitalistic society influencing us 24/7 and convincing us we need more, that we're not enough.


Sleep evaded me last night. Big surprise.

Downstairs I sat near an open window, breathing in the cool air and wishing to have the kind of peace the darkness of night envelops. I watched the moon ascend, making the branches of the neighbor's tree look like skeleton arms reaching up toward some unknown companion.

It's strange how we are all under the same moon, the same stars, and yet we feel so alone. Darkness amplifies distance — it's the price pay for its serenity.

I miss my daughter more every day. I thought it would be hard at first and then get easier. At first it just seemed like she was on vacation, like she'd be back in a few weeks. Now that I see her face on social media, posting about her interests and projects, her classes and friends, and it hits me that she had started a new life there, 980.7 miles away.

Her physical absence here has left a wound in me as dark as this night that now seems to be holding me hostage.

And yet at the same time I am overflowing with pride. She's shown that she has so much more courage than I, even though my time on this earth more than duplicates hers. At her age I would have never been able to move that far away from my friends and family with nothing but the promise that I'd be Ok.

She made a very adult decision, and she's shown in that and in other ways how strong-willed and undeterred she is.

I found a fitting inspirational quote online last week that I immediately knew I had to send her. It was something to the effect of that, I hope my daughter knows that she can accomplish anything she wants, I hope she sees the value I see in her . . . that type of thing.  Her response, "I already know that ;)"

And she does.

I suppose it is a bit selfish to want her here, when I know she is doing well where she is, but she'll always be my baby, and not being able to hug her is driving me batty. I don't want any gifts for my birthday or Christmas, I just want to hold my daughter, that's it.

She's excelling at school, all As and Bs, she's continuing to learn how to play the violin. She will be taking art classes next semester, and though I admit I am a bit biased, she is really a great artist. Her work amazes me, and I really hope she keeps it up.

She'll be 13 in a couple of months, pretty hard to believe.

These are the things that keep me up at night.

The moon had risen above the skeleton tree at that point, and the night air had turned from cool to brisk. I knew I should try to sleep, but I know myself well enough to know that it would be several hours yet.

I usually have some clever, quirky ending to all of my entries, but this time I am drawing a blank. I'll attribute that to my sleepless night.