;)
Thursday
Oct012009
What You Don't Know
Thursday, October 1, 2009 at 7:40PM
This is the fourth draft that I've started for you today, and that seems only fitting, since it's your fourth year of life that you've started today.
I don't really know what to say to you, sugar. You don't even really get what the whole "birthday" thing is yet, beyond the presents. You don't actually know what birth is, come to think of it. You like to catch me fresh out of the shower and make me squeeze the sticky mulk out of my boooobeeees for you to see, and you know that babies drink milk from their mommas, but you don't realize that you did, too. You know that babies can be in a momma's tummy, and that one day they are out, but you haven't put two and two together on that one just yet.
You have no idea that everything changed the day you were born. You don't understand that events can change people yet, mostly because the grandest event in your life to date has had to do with an imaginary blue hedgehog. You don't know that I am a person yet. Right now, I am your momma just like that leg is your leg or that doll is your doll. You still possess me, and you couldn't understand that, once upon a time, you were part of my body, even if you wanted to.
You don't understand that the photograph on the wall of your brothers and some weird, bald baby is you. It can't be you. You are this big with that much hair, right momma? You don't own that dress, so it can't be you in the picture.
What is it is that you have no concept of the past. You can't comprehend growth or age yet, so this arbitrary number that people keep throwing in your face today, sticking in your cake frosting, calling you and singing...none of it means anything. Your favorite number is two, so that's how old you are. You don't know what being two means, just that it feels good in your mouth to say.
What I want to tell you is that four years ago you defined me. That more than being their mother or his wife or her best friend, being your mother has been the most life-altering path I've ever walked. It's not that I love you more than those people, it's that the love is different. I look into your brother's eyes and I see my heart. I look into yours and I see my flesh. It's different.
It makes me understand, this having you, why the stories of god and creation being with the man and lead to the woman, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh. I feel that when I look at you. I feel you under my skin and in my hair and coursing through my veins every second of the day, every day of your four years of life. Creation of woman is the most grand, crippling, powerful thing in the universe, and I did it just once. The further you grow from me, the more I feel the loss, because you are my very life. I gave it to you the day I bore you, wet and wrinkled, into your brother's arms.
When I had your brothers, I learned how very wrong everything that my own brother and I survived was. I learned to hate those people who had hurt us so many times over, for so many years, and who continue to in their absence. Your brothers showed me that there is a natural order to things, an instinct that prevents people from torturing their young, and it showed me finally that it wasn't me, it wasn't us, it was them who were broken. Your brothers gave me walls of strength and reassurance.
And you tore all of them down.
I see you cry and I can't for the life of me imagine what it did to the very souls of the people who made a hobby out of making my brother and me cry. I put bandaids on your boo-boos and I wince in pain with you, and I wonder what kind of monster you would have to be to rip flesh off of a child, just because you own a belt and you're taller. I feel what it is like to be mother to a daughter, I am swallowed in the magnitude of this greatness thrust upon me, and I find myself feeling something I've never felt in my entire life...pity.
You've helped me to let go of my rage and my blood-lust for those people and pity them. I don't want to forgive them, I don't intend to forgive them, and I'll never pretend to understand them but I've learned that I can feel sorrow for the loss of what they never really knew they had. They wasted their entire lives never once seeing what I see in your face every day. They've lived out their years never feeling what I feel every day in your arms.
And as for me? I can give all of that love, all of the touches and kisses and snuggles that I'd accumulated over those 17 years I spent trapped with those monsters and I can hand it all to you. I can give your every beautiful memory I imagined I'd have if things we just different. I can teach you to nurture, I can create a woman, I can right the wrong and make you stronger, better than I ever could have been anyway. I know that you've come to replace all the hurt and the hate that was beaten into my body, to fill that space, and I know that I'm okay with letting it all go for you. I don't need it anymore, I just needed you.
You can bring silliness back to this home of very large, very grown people. You can remind us of quiet bathtimes and lavender lotions and plastic xylophone concertos. You can take the traditions I've created out of starlight and dust and keep them alive for our whole family. I watch my middle son take your face, hold you close to him and say goodbye to his little three year old, then tell you how excited he is to meet his big four year old in the morning, and I know that we are all okay. I know that I've made it all right, that it's all come full circle and I've not only broken the chain, I've made a brand new one for you. For all of you.
Thank you for that. Thank you for all of this. Thank you for giving me a soul again, and filling it up. I promise, I'll guard it, and yours, and all of ours, with my very life.
I don't really know what to say to you, sugar. You don't even really get what the whole "birthday" thing is yet, beyond the presents. You don't actually know what birth is, come to think of it. You like to catch me fresh out of the shower and make me squeeze the sticky mulk out of my boooobeeees for you to see, and you know that babies drink milk from their mommas, but you don't realize that you did, too. You know that babies can be in a momma's tummy, and that one day they are out, but you haven't put two and two together on that one just yet.
You have no idea that everything changed the day you were born. You don't understand that events can change people yet, mostly because the grandest event in your life to date has had to do with an imaginary blue hedgehog. You don't know that I am a person yet. Right now, I am your momma just like that leg is your leg or that doll is your doll. You still possess me, and you couldn't understand that, once upon a time, you were part of my body, even if you wanted to.
You don't understand that the photograph on the wall of your brothers and some weird, bald baby is you. It can't be you. You are this big with that much hair, right momma? You don't own that dress, so it can't be you in the picture.
What is it is that you have no concept of the past. You can't comprehend growth or age yet, so this arbitrary number that people keep throwing in your face today, sticking in your cake frosting, calling you and singing...none of it means anything. Your favorite number is two, so that's how old you are. You don't know what being two means, just that it feels good in your mouth to say.
What I want to tell you is that four years ago you defined me. That more than being their mother or his wife or her best friend, being your mother has been the most life-altering path I've ever walked. It's not that I love you more than those people, it's that the love is different. I look into your brother's eyes and I see my heart. I look into yours and I see my flesh. It's different.
It makes me understand, this having you, why the stories of god and creation being with the man and lead to the woman, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh. I feel that when I look at you. I feel you under my skin and in my hair and coursing through my veins every second of the day, every day of your four years of life. Creation of woman is the most grand, crippling, powerful thing in the universe, and I did it just once. The further you grow from me, the more I feel the loss, because you are my very life. I gave it to you the day I bore you, wet and wrinkled, into your brother's arms.
When I had your brothers, I learned how very wrong everything that my own brother and I survived was. I learned to hate those people who had hurt us so many times over, for so many years, and who continue to in their absence. Your brothers showed me that there is a natural order to things, an instinct that prevents people from torturing their young, and it showed me finally that it wasn't me, it wasn't us, it was them who were broken. Your brothers gave me walls of strength and reassurance.
And you tore all of them down.
I see you cry and I can't for the life of me imagine what it did to the very souls of the people who made a hobby out of making my brother and me cry. I put bandaids on your boo-boos and I wince in pain with you, and I wonder what kind of monster you would have to be to rip flesh off of a child, just because you own a belt and you're taller. I feel what it is like to be mother to a daughter, I am swallowed in the magnitude of this greatness thrust upon me, and I find myself feeling something I've never felt in my entire life...pity.
You've helped me to let go of my rage and my blood-lust for those people and pity them. I don't want to forgive them, I don't intend to forgive them, and I'll never pretend to understand them but I've learned that I can feel sorrow for the loss of what they never really knew they had. They wasted their entire lives never once seeing what I see in your face every day. They've lived out their years never feeling what I feel every day in your arms.
And as for me? I can give all of that love, all of the touches and kisses and snuggles that I'd accumulated over those 17 years I spent trapped with those monsters and I can hand it all to you. I can give your every beautiful memory I imagined I'd have if things we just different. I can teach you to nurture, I can create a woman, I can right the wrong and make you stronger, better than I ever could have been anyway. I know that you've come to replace all the hurt and the hate that was beaten into my body, to fill that space, and I know that I'm okay with letting it all go for you. I don't need it anymore, I just needed you.
You can bring silliness back to this home of very large, very grown people. You can remind us of quiet bathtimes and lavender lotions and plastic xylophone concertos. You can take the traditions I've created out of starlight and dust and keep them alive for our whole family. I watch my middle son take your face, hold you close to him and say goodbye to his little three year old, then tell you how excited he is to meet his big four year old in the morning, and I know that we are all okay. I know that I've made it all right, that it's all come full circle and I've not only broken the chain, I've made a brand new one for you. For all of you.
Thank you for that. Thank you for all of this. Thank you for giving me a soul again, and filling it up. I promise, I'll guard it, and yours, and all of ours, with my very life.
Reader Comments (63)
This is lovely. I understand it, I feel like my youngest renewed my life and soul a bit , too. We are very lucky.
That was soooo beautiful. So beautiful in fact I can hardly tell you how she's going to hate your guts because you won't let her get in cars with boys and how at 15 she will still come hang on you for just a brief moment when she feels insecure and you drink it up but dare not bring it to her attention. Just the other day we had a tickle session, at 15! That makes me proud, some may not understand it, but those few minutes are solid gold at this age, because tomorrow she'll get mad that I won't let her pierce her eyebrow.
Oh, this was gorgeous woman. xoxo
Happy Birthday!!
Beautiful. And your younger son? Quite possibly the best big brother EVAH. You've done well Mr Lady, very well.
This was beautiful and passionate and just, thank you. I actually emailed this to my Mom & Sister & Aunt, to share it with the women in my family. 3of3 will be so lucky someday to be able to look back on this, and know the depths of her mother's love for her. Happy 4th Birthday, 3of3!
never before has anyone, including myself, been able to (so perfectly) express what it means to me to have a daughter among sons. she is me, more than my boys. i could never say the bond that i feel with her. thank you.
Happy day to 3of3, she is one lucky little girl.
oh, mr lady. so perfect.
Perfection.
Happy Birthday to that sweet girl..
Mine turns 3.5 in a few weeks...so your post really tore me up.
I'm so happy you posted at night, when I'm sans mascara.
Thank you!
(Your vacation looked amazing)
Happy Birthday to my favorite of the three.
(Just don't tell the other two that she's my favorite.)
Sweet post, my friend.
Thank you for this post. I have 3 sons and my youngest child is my daughter. People hurt me and my brother when we were small and I've come to a similar place regarding them. They are small and pitiful people. It's because of my girl, that I was able to find peace with that crap and let it go so she never understands or knows any of it.
Thank you for this post.
Happy Birthday 3of3! This is, by far, your very finest birthday post, darling. Come to Vegas with me and Molla! Pretty please? Love you and give her a birthday kiss from me!
Wow! That was beautiful, and one day 3of3 will look back on this, smile and then give you a great big hug! Way to right a wrong....I hope I am half as strong as you are to do the same....Great Post Mr.Lady!
NLSM
This was the most beautifully written post... there is something different, and oh so special about your youngest, a daughter, isn't there? Never to diminish the love for your sons... but very life-altering. You put it into words better than I could have.
Wow.
1. Girl, can you write or what?
2. Yah, there's a tear in my eye.
3. Happy Birthday wee girl. Give that Momma of yours a hug.
Happy birthday 3 of 3!
And what a marvelous tribute from her mama.
I can't believe I haven't met her.
Happy birthday 3of3! My little one just turned 4 a month ago.
You are spot on that having a daughter evokes something different than sons. Spot on. I want her to have what I didn't, be what I'm not and know what I didn't. Only I could never say it as well as you.
She is a lucky girl. Although I have never met her, I'm proud to say I know her.
Damn you, woman. I need a tissue. That is so beautiful. Happy Birthday 3of3!
Happy Birthday, 3 of 3! You are blessed to have such a strong, loving, nurturing Momma.
So many passages of this ring true for me to, and I think they are pretty universal to moms. Beautiful post!
Happy Birthday!
Just about the most beautiful thing I've ever read, wow. It left tears in my eyes and made me with that my 4 year old daughter was here right now so that I could give her a big hug, one so tight that she would say Maaawwwwmmmm let go!
Happy birthday 3of3!
While I have only boys, and thought I was destined to be a 'boy mama' this really made me wonder what I could have been as a mother to a daughter. Gorgeous and I hope she reads this one day, when she's done possessing you...
This is the first time I have ever read you blog, and WOW, what a powerful way to start. I grew up in a home full of love, hugs&kisses, hope, peace, and support. I can't even imagine the pain the girl-you and your young brother experienced. But I do have a friend who survived years of one of the biggest betrayals a child could ever endure. It was life altering for her and I saw how the evil of one person could devastate an entire life. She grew up and she found healing and peace, but the memory has never completely left her. It left an indelible mark, but like you, she has healed even more by pouring her love and undying protection over her own children.
Thanks for sharing and here is to all of the survivors who fight to move on and to break the chain and bring love to the world, Lisa B.
Happy birthday 3 of 3!! You have a very special momma and I hope you will always remember that...even when you are 15 and hormonal :) Those years will be the hardest but persevere...everything will straighten out around 23-27 :)
Beautiful post, I'm so glad that you broken the chain and forged a much better one.
Not sure about the "mulk from the boobees" though??? Does that really still happen 4 years later Lol
Lady, you can rock a birthday post, that's for sure. 3of3 will bring balance to the Force. She will make everything right in this world. Or bring cities to battle, because if my son is any indication, she will be irresistible like that.
A beautiful, loving post to a very fortunate little girl.
And you're a wonderful mom.
I don't know you and I don't know your story,
I don't know you and I don't know your story, but this post is as raw and powerful as birth. I am hungry for stories like this about motherhood, what it means to have been a child and then bear a child, and decide to be the change in the world that you yourself once longed for. There is something about that alchemy that is unbelievably potent. That power is so tamped down, so wounded still in many of us-- but if could unleash it or light it up or heal it or whatever the metaphor is, then no shit--that is the world. Lit up.
Wow. What a beautiful, wonderful and completing “bookend” this entry is for me after reading your VU entry a while back. How awesome it must be to know that you’ve survived AND broken the cycle.
I can only hope your kids know how lucky they are. I get the feeling they do.
I know I don't "know" you, but posts like these make me love you (in a non-creepy, non-stalkerish way!)
Oh, the tears. I can't hold them back. Thanks for making me a blubbery mess this morning.
I don't think she's on twitter anymore, but read this from @mrlady this morning. And it made me cry. http://twurl.nl/f3etgt
RT @mommakiss: read this from @mrlady this morning. And it made me cry. http://twurl.nl/f3etgt Every parent should read this!
Beautiful. What a lucky pair you are to have one another.
"There is no vocabulary for the love within a family, love that's lived in, but not looked at, love within the light of which, all else is seen..." TS Eliot, poet.
that's my first response to your post. Happy Birthday by the way. Loved the description of your son responding to his sister. V. heartwarming to hear there are some great brothers out there. I had to read your post a few times, bc i'm slow that way, duh. and bc i wanted to make sure i got what you were saying. cause if they're long, i kinda get sidetracked. bottom line, i am glad for you. I have a few verses by Kahlil Gibran I thought you might like. It speaks to me of the importance of a parent's steadfastness and in some ways courage. (and really to provide a sound foundation for our children.) hope you like it and find something in it.
YOUR CHILDREN
You may strive to be like them
But seek not to make them like you
For life goes not backward
nor tarries with yesterday
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth
The Archer sets the mark,
upon the path of the infinite,
And He bends you with his might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand,
be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves the bow that is stable.
-- Kahlil Gibran
Absolutely beautiful! I'm 34 weeks pregnant with my first, a girl, and you have me in tears. I have so much to look forward to. Thank you.
I am a mother of boys. It was the desire of my heart,, when pregnant with my first, to be a mother of boy(s) only. I knew I would not be a good mama to a girl child. God knew that too, because when I got my hearts desire, to be a mother of only boys, I got the significant knowledge in my heart that I was "done". Had nothing to do with my husband. My body, my choice, my mind, so while on the table delivering 2nd son, not 5 minutes later, my OB was closing the door, the opportunity to change my mind later, to a possibility of a girl child (tubes tied).
And---17 years later? I have the exact same knowing that I would not have been able to parent a girl. It never waivered, and it was, and is, because of my upbringing. My single mother tried her best, but I was a wild child. And I knew because of that, I would ruin a girl. And that would have broken my mother's heart (my heart, not my mothers!).
Your post here was beautiful, gorgeous, all that I would have wanted for myself as a mother. Yet, I knew? I knew.
I do not have a daughter and never will, but if I did, I would hope I could write something half as poignant as what you just did! Happy bday to your baby girl!
I am speechless. You are not only a passionate amazing communicater/writer. . .but also have a lions share of courage. . or should I say woman's share?
Bless you for breaking the cycle. ..
Beautiful post.
This blindsided me in such a profound way - beautiful, Shannon. She's a lucky little girl to have such an enlightened mother. *fist bump* You're doing a great job. xo
I never had children for fear of turning into something like what I lived through.
It has always hurt, and on my worst? days I think to myself how glad I am I don't have someone else, some child, to suffer through the consequences of me being me.
But it hurts.
I feel your words, and I am so, so happy for you. Bless me, too.
Happy birthday to your little girl. If she grows up with only a fraction of your vim, vigor, and love, she'll be amazing.
Just amazed, your writing continues to stun me.
Happy birthday to 3of3.
Happy Birthday to both of you! <3
Gulp.
Happy birthday 3of3. Your momma is lucky to have you.
It all --ALL-- makes you, you, and you are the perfect person to be her Moma.
Happy birthday, 3of3. One day you'll understand.
as often a beautiful post .....but really I think i adore 2of3.