My daughter turned five in January. I think I have to say it again. My daughter turned five in January.
The tick-tock of the clock appear in her face, in her eyes and in her smile. I look at this particular picture again and again, and I am having trouble keeping my composure. There is a genuine quality to this happiness, the particular sparkle that radiates from her eyes. Until I met her, I never knew this kind of happiness. When I am around her, I feel it. She doesn’t do in-between. She really feels. She laughs with such deep conviction, it sometimes, if I think about it for even a second, moves me to tears. It happens when I say funny things to her, like de-da-do-da and she collapses onto a heap on the floor, the laughter cushions her fall on the carpet. Sometimes we lay together and she asks me to cuddle with her and I tickle her in the middle of her belly and there it is again. Her infectious, joyous laughter. It’s unmistakable. And she always wants me to witness it.
I don’t know when this will pass. But I know it will. These days her comfort is and in her mother. When I am in the house and she can’t see me, I hear her loud voice echo through the house, with one word, “Momma.” I answer back, saying, “Yes.” And then with a deep breath, she says, “I was just checking on you.” You heard it right, she checks on me.
She loves being in my company and just a few seconds of separation causes her unbelievable angst. When I leave for a meeting or an outing, she rushes to the door, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and says these words, “I love you and I will miss you so much Momma.” I always tell her I will be back soon. Her eyes brew tears even before my car has pulled out of the garage. When she comes home from school, one of the first questions she asks, is “Are you going to a meeting today Momma?” When I say no, the laughter spills out of her body that I can’t help but laugh too.
Some days her attachment is confining because I don’t always understand it. Her angst over me not being there with her all of the time can be irritating, but it is part of her. There is a rawness, both in her laughter and her tears.
I know these are the days I will miss. When I will wish that she was just checking on me.
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Are there moments that you witness that you know you will miss? Does the rawness of your children’s emotions surprise you?
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
That’s so lovely, Rudri, to still be so needed and so vital to her happiness. What a light your daughter is.
Thanks Cheryl. I feel exactly the same way. She is my light.
That smile just melts my heart, and your words brought tears to my eyes. Children are so loving and caring and innocent…it all passes by way too soon. Yes, you will miss those days…but I hear around the corner from those are grandchildren…I don’t have those yet and mine are past those beautiful innocent years, but someday….For now memories are good enough.
There are always new beginnings. Thanks for this reminder.
I love this post. Celebrate these moments, they will be in your heart and hers forever.
I intend to celebrate them as much as I can. Thanks for stopping by!
Beautiful post. As the father of the aforementioned child I too will be sad when these days pass.
Your daughter is beautiful! Such a sweet smile and kind eyes. My youngest will soon turn seventeen. I watched her last night at a college fair, confidently introducing herself to admissions counselors from a dozen schools, making eye contact and boldly announcing her desire to study biology and genetics. My eldest daughter will turn twenty in the fall and is blossoming at college, finding new friends, new interests and the desire to change the world. I see that in your daughter’s eyes – she knows she will change the world.
I appreciate your sentiment and kind words. I am certain you are proud of your daughters too. The sparkle that radiates from their eyes speaks of change for both them and the mothers.
She is adorable! I like this one :-).
Thanks Manju for stopping by!
How lovely that she checks on you and that she loves so deeply. As a new mama, I feel like I am going to miss the rawness of each new stage and the joy of rediscovering things through my little guy’s eyes.
This is beautiful as are you and your daughter. My youngest, Matthew, is like this. He will check on me and loves to be with me. Because I know from my oldest two that it doesn’t last, I am soaking up every moment.
Tiffany,
I appreciate your compliment. I am also trying to embrace every moment, even the frustrating ones because their is a simlicity in the joy and the tears.
She’s beautiful, Rudri! And I’m so charmed to see a comment from her daddy!
Alas, we can’t freeze time so I guess all that we can do is contiue to make special memories with them and savor every moment of this kind of pure joy for as long as it lasts.
Thanks Belinda! I am trying to savor them as much as I can. It is the purest kind of joy I’ve ever witnessed.
What a lovely and poignant post, Rudri. (She’s so beautiful!) Do enjoy these days! They’re good ones! But I can honestly say that every stage of parenting (so far) has had far more wondrous and joyful moments than not, and that even includes the teenage years.
So I wish you many more moments of realizing how special your daughter is, and cherishing the bond that you share. (Not to worry – there will be more to come!)
I like this perspective BLW. I have to remember more moments like this will come, but they may be different from the joys of childhood. But they will come. Thanks for the reminder.
I can so relate to this at this point. While my daughter has been dealing well with our move and other recent changes for the most part, she has regressed a little and has started to get more attached to me – more so than usual. After working long hours away and coming home to a clingy child can be challenging, but I have to remind myself that this too shall pass. And when it does, it will be me who will want it all back because I will forever miss the days when she longed for me the most.
It is certainly hard to remember that when you are in it. But I know that I will miss it years from now when having her mom around might cramp her style. I will say, “Remember when you couldn’t bear for me to be out of your sight?”