Dressed in lilac flowers that formed a dress as lovely as her, her red hair fell softly over her shoulders. Perfectly applied lipstick drew my attention to that one precious dimple that shows only when she smiles. She let me kiss her cheek and then silver heels adorned with glitter took her floating out the door.
Graciously, she had allowed me to help with the finishing touches as she prepared for her final homecoming dance. Purple ribbons hang from her neck with a tree of life charm at the center, a charm that has become the symbol of hope for her uncle Daniel. A silver charm bracelet lays on her left arm. One that had taken me months to make because I had to find the perfect charms. We spritzed her hair with hairspray, not because she needed it, but because it smells like Gramma. Just before she left, she made a point to show us which rings she had chosen. One was a purple ring that had once been mine. On the other, a heart, a heart that her Grandma Robin treasured and wore so often that Bailey remembered.
She’s my girl. She’s my baby. She even took my phone and changed her nickname from Bailey to Baby. This girl of ours, she’s something special. She was the minute she was born and has been every minute since. Never one to do anything just because someone wants her too, she still manages to the right thing. She stands out from the crowd because she has never tried to fit in. She knows who she is and what she wants to do. Believe me when I say she has the perseverance to do whatever she decides.
I wish that I could make this night perfect for her. My hope is that she knows how deeply she is loved, how deeply she is treasured. I hope this night contains laughter, silliness, and sweet moments. I pray that even just for one night, others will choose to be kind. I want her to smile, dance, and be filled with the joy lies within her grasp. I will wait up for her. I always do. Not because I am scared, she won’t come home, but because when she is tired, she will talk. It will be that fleeting moment when I am able to hear the true thoughts in her mind and the true feelings that lie in her heart.
I cannot express what a gift it is to be her mother. I do know that I always wanted to be as good of a mother as I had. I can’t tell you if I have been or not. I can tell you that, just like the gift my momma gave to me, no matter where she goes and what choices she makes, I will always love her with every single fiber of my heart.
Thanks, God for allowing me to be a mother. Thank you for helping me treasure these firsts series of lasts. Thank you that I have both a mother who loves me well and a daughter that I can love well. Both are indescribably good gifts.
Danielle Bowman says
Oh I hope Bailey has already read this and feels ALL that you Expressed so sincerely.