"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Monday, March 1, 2010

Celia #13

I know birthdays are traditionally for the one celebrating their birth day. We come bearing gifts, cake and congratulatory exclamations on another year of life passed. She grins and gets excited, feels special, feels loved.

But as the mother, I think I could probably chance to say, that I'm the only one who really remembers how momentous an occasion it was thirteen years ago. Yes, one minute she was in the dark, completely unaware and the next, struck by a barrage of overwhelming sensation. Sounds never heard before, light never seen, touch never experienced and emotions not yet expressed.

But somehow, I'd been in the dark too. I also had no idea how the sound of childhood laughter, a smile illuminating an entire face, a hug warming from the inside out, or soothing the pain of an unseen hurt would change me. I think that's the magic of a first born child. Her firsts were my firsts. I learned as she learned. The minute I held her in my outstretched arms, how little did I know that my life would never again be the same.

And so we celebrate Celia's 13 years in our family with all the pomp and circumstance of a gal reaching a ripe ole age. With a line of song stuck in my head, "Time flies on wings of lightning, one cannot call it back", my heart aches for the days to slow. And in my silent reverie, I celebrate my own special day to remember thirteen years ago. The day she made me what I always dreamed of being. The day I became her mother.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, this is so sweet. Happy Birthday to both of you!