I remember taking this photo of you as if it were yesterday. Sweet Fifteen in your strapless black Easter dress just before Mass, cuz that’s how you rolled . . . a touch untamable, my Thoroughbred who ran her own race. My eyes sting and my throat tightens to the point of not being able to swallow remembering how much I loved you then, and yet, I love who you are now even more than I thought possible.
Cleaning out your empty room has begun a great period of melancholy, remembering your twenty-two years spent in this house . . . oh the sweet baby wrapped in pink that I brought home. Suddenly you’re two, then three, my Dilly Dolly, and now you are a woman with a home of your own.
I remember thinking when you were just a few months old, “How did I ever live without a Baby Girl.” I know that I lived every minute trying to hold on to it, for I knew one day I would wake and you’d be grown. I just didn’t realize that once we arrived here, looking back from this side of yesterday, that it would seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, during the spin in the dance, my Beautiful Baby Girl.
“God never loved me in so sweet a way before,
Till He brought Thee to me and said
Behold Thy Daughter.”
I am ever so proud of you and honored to be your mother.
Oh Baby Baby.