To the left is a picture of my heart.
There have been random moments when I realize that my daughter is my heart. Kyle holds my heart, Katie is my heart. As is my son, William, now. Yet the part of my heart that signifies Katie has been grown, tarnished, shined... it's old. Or so it feels. Were anything to happen to her I would lose incredible memories of the past and awesome dreams and visions of the future. She is becoming her own person and is day by day pushing my 'motherly' influence away. She will do that until she reaches the end of high school, and as most of us know because of personal experience, it is then that she will begin again to draw closer to me as she once was in infancy. Phone calls asking for direction in life, late night conversations about boys and very likely - hopefully few and far between - desiring financial 'assistance'.
The other day as we were leaving Doxa church in West Seattle, I let go of her hand on the sidewalk as we approached our car. We were parked in a diagonal spot beside the church building on a residential street. Katie and Kyle made their way around the opposite side as I set William in on the passenger's side. Over the top of the car I noticed a vehicle driving up the street towards us. It was a 'motherly' moment when you run through the checklist in your head: 1) there's a car approaching from the driver's side 2) Katie is on the driver's side of the car with Kyle 3) the car is not going fast 4) Katie is probably holding Kyle's hand...
But she wasn't. We have begun to teach Katie to 'touch the wheel' of the car as I lift William in and she is NOT allowed to let go until Mom or Dad says so. Kyle was aware of the car and took precautions to keep Katie safe. On this particular day, Kyle's hands were full and as he instructed her to touch the wheel while he opened the door she decided to take off right towards the street. At that same moment, a car flew around the corner from behind me on the passenger's side of the car and within a second of time I could feel the car speeding from behind me, I heard Kyle shouting for Katie to STOP at the top of his lungs, I heard the 'click' of William's carseat in its base, and my heartbeat stopped, my brow was instantaneously sweaty and I couldn't breathe. I knew that my daughter, in her disobedience, was about to pay the ultimate consequence - I knew that my heart was running out into oncoming traffic. I do not know how fast I got around the back of the car and I do not know if the car coming from behind me even noticed a little girl in a pink coat and jeans running happily out from behind a parked car as her mother raced towards her. Seconds of time did not have to pass for me to realize the impact this little girl has on my life.
The drive home was silent. The minute I spoke up and got no more than a breath out, Kyle piped up saying that that was the scariest moment of his life. I didn't have to speak. We both just sat in silence as Katie, in her naivety, asked questions and told us stories from the back seat. She was happy and content. I looked at her amazed and thankful for everything that she is. As a dear friend told me yesturday, that was the first of many moments such as these when you realize that your children ARE your heart.
She and William are asleep as I write this and I cannot wait until tomorrow morning when I will feed William for his final 'night feeding' and hand him off to his dad to sleep the rest of the morning. I will awake with Katie and serve her toast with honey and milk while I indulge in a couple cups of coffee. We will watch Sesame street at 6:30, then Zaboomafoo at 7:00. Sometimes Arthur and Clifford: The Big Red Dog will be in the line-up before Katie gets bored and begins the day's destruction of the house.
I love being a Mom. But boy is it terrifying. I hear the cycle of joy/terror never really ends.
No comments:
Post a Comment