I hear her singing in the kitchen as I finish up my quiet time. Praise songs…worshipping as she makes her breakfast. My happy child. My Girl. Singing has always been her morning go-to. Waking up alone in her crib she would call out, “Momma?” I don’t answer right away because I know. The singing would begin. She didn’t snuggle into sleep with lovies or blankies or toys. Music was her comfort.
That child…My Girl…turned twenty-four last week. The child I first went into labor with at 24 weeks. The news I wept over while holding her 3 month old brother became a blessing I begged would not be lost. We rarely know the treasure we hold until it is nearly snatched from our grasp. The blessing that is now twenty-four years long.
My Girl…became engaged last week. At the impossibly childlike age of 24. It does not matter that I was two years into a rocky, pain filled marriage at that age. she is too young! she is not ready! She can’t be leaving me already…the painful truth right there…leaving me.
She assures me she won’t leave. Emphatically stating she…no…they…will follow us wherever we go. We. Suddenly a much smaller sounding word. The Big Boy having moved out days before The Wild Boy returns home from his first year of college. Here only a few short months before back to Southwest Virginia…into an apartment for year two. We…will soon mean just The Man and I…not We Five.
I linger there this morning…We Five and our adventures the first half of our lives together. Next year we become We Six. I love even numbers…had lobbied for child number four to make us a rounded out, complete, even number Six. Soon we will be complete. For a time.
My just shy of six pounds, chicken legged, surprise blessing…to marry. Today I have finally accepted… embraced…praised. The planning has begun. So has the stress, according to this soon to be son number 3 of mine. He knows My Girl so well. He is calm to her storm. How like me, she is. How he is learned, these four years, to accept her and love her as her father has her mother. The calm to my storm, her father has always been.
He has jumped headlong into our wedding planning for his little girl. The first full day of diamond ring wearing wrought from him a wedding breakdown structure. My Logistician husband…pushing aside giving away his Goose to another man, by immersing in what he knows.
So a new adventure begun. I will cling to My little Girl these next twelve months or so as she continues her bloom to wife hood. And I will cherish the mornings filled with her song.