I am blessed to have two, beautiful, extraordinary children. However, a few months ago, my daughter, aged 14, decided to up and live with her father. Apparently quite a common move in girls that age. I have not fought this. I’ve accepted it, supported her as much as I can, and regularly send her soppy texts. I don’t THINK they contain any emotional blackmail…!!
As yesterday’s post attests to, I have had my share of heartbreak. Or so I thought. Nothing compares to this. The physical ache of missing her is like a phantom limb.
Today, she and her father came to visit. Not something she does often. So I took the opportunity to hug the bejasus out of her every ten minutes, which she tolerated like a trooper. She is so beautiful, she takes my breathe away.
Her name is Hannah. When we she was little we called her “Hannah-Banana”. And thus the basis of today’s poem.
I hold her fragile beauty in my arms,
In that hungry way that mothers do.
I drink in her smell as when she was a baby.
Try to transmit to her my power.
The power to shield her from harm.
To love her no matter how awful she is.
To get up from depression, illness, hopelessness,
in order to feed her, clothe her, take her shopping.
Yet it is that power that has driven her away.
She must find herself, by leaving me.
My heartbreak is not her concern.
She must do what she must do.
As must I.
I hand her over.
Whether she is with me,
I fill the gaping hole in my heart
with gratitude for the fact that,