When they put her on my chest I can so vaguely remember thinking a hundred thoughts about the gift of having a little girl. During my pregnancy I had no less than 10 ultrasounds to confirm the anatomy. Each time, I'd walk to my car...or rather float to my car gleaming with the thought of dressing up a girl. What I didn't understand was the lifetime relationship I'd build with that little girl. She was a whiny cry baby, and one that was sensitive to noise. She rattled my cage those first few months. I can remember staring at her at 3am with explosive bright yellow shit all over her belly, legs, feet, and sometimes all over me...as I whispered to her screaming red face going as fast as I could to put her little kicking feet back into her pj's. I always loved those sack style sleepers. Shoving feet in, tying the string in the bottom, scooping them up to feed.
The early days of breast feeding offering us a whole different experience. Shoving a red hot, over filled mess of a boob job LOOKING boob into her mouth, talking as calm as I could to just get her calm enough to not rip off my nipple.
A true mess.
We survived.
Something I've always been proud of, was actually getting through it.
Pretty much alone.
A year later, I'd toss in the nursing towel, and watch this little baby turn into a toddler.
Soon, we'd get through nanny transportation, preschool, Kindergarten, elementary, middle and soon high school. All of which I'd do my best to guide her. Through sports, and friendships. I'd push through with her.
As she went away to school, I felt as though my job went well, yet I missed the moments we'd always shared. The good and the bad. We never had anything bad, bad. But you know, the arguments, the attitudes. The speeding tickets. Ten parking tickets. The frantic issues when our printer wouldn't work, and she roll her eyes at me, telling me we have NOTHING that works, and our "everything" sucks. And how we should have bigger and betters and I'd just stare at her with the hopes that one day she'd become an adult and realize I work my tail off to provide. That all I did for both of them was my commitment to them. Breakfasts, lunches and dinners made from my heart. And sometimes from tired hands each morning. Sleepless nights waiting for them to return from dances, and parties. Driving to pick her up from wherever she didn't feel comfortable. Most always, a sleepover. They weren't her gig. Not til later years when she'd find her favorite home, and of course the high school years when they had an "agenda".
I wasn't able to partake in her twentieth celebration this year. First time in twenty years I'm not able to hug her and present her a cake. We have some making up to do. That's for sure...
I'm proud of you Kali. You've paved the road you want. I have Faith that you will move the mountains to take life by the horns and do what it takes to survive. Remember to put love first. Humanity and friendships are the main ingredients in the recipe. You have two parents that stand behind you, and talk proudly behind your back. We sit and share a cocktail some nights and comment on just how far you've come. How your navigations in things are so far in control.
I hope these next chapters are good to you, and likewise to them. Leaving your teens is a big deal. One you really won't comprehend until you're in the next chapter book. Thirties. You'll look back on the silly antics that your twenties gave you and what you gave it.
God willing, I hope you stay safe. And healthy.
I hope you choose to dance. Wherever the time is rights and if it's not, I hope you know to laugh. And smile. Storms will come and storms will pass.
Remember, Love Never Fails.
Kindness matters.
Happy Twentieth Birthday, Kailyn Mae.
I love you more than I do myself.
Have a good rest of your time away...
You have an awesome Dad, and some rock solid friends..
Remember to thank Shelly for her love, her giving hands for food, decorating and guidance.
Like when you couldn't back down the boat trailer.
You know........sideways?
Love,
Your Mom
Ps. Just spoke with Kris' doctor. She said all blood cultures are coming back negative. Meaning, the antibiotics are working. Trying to get spit culture today *ew*, for labs. Firm poop is a good sign *double ew*, and he can finally walk the halls today. He's been confined to a 12X12 room again for a week. It's time to get things going. Platelets are rising at the slowest rate ever, so he has to wait for those. One more scan of his gall bladder (thoughts are, it is swollen and sore meaning that because of GVHD in the gut, it can filter through that, causing havoc and lots of pain and diarrhea, something we don't need with soo much weight loss as it is)
So....a few more days. Waiting on answers.
So far, our doctor this weekend Dr. Wong (female) is compassionate, firm, detailed and calm. She reassuring and thorough. Can't ask for anything better....right?
Today's highlight for ME is a place called Sidewalk Cafe down the street in the concrete jungle. Middle Eastern food.....HOLLA!
Peace to you all, and remember why we celebrate Memorial Day. Some gave all.
XO
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