Playing with the camera. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
birthday tip-toed into the morning sun shadows, greeted me with open arms, and begged me to get up and play with it.
one more year is here to plaster me in hope and grind me down to a newer version of myself I’ve been shelving for decades.
I tell it I’ll surrender under one condition, and that’s if it’ll give me fifteen minutes in a room with my dead cousin, unbothered by a world that keeps shifting with every breath I take.
it’s an interrogation of sorts; how I attempt to negotiate getting older and being happy while doing it, instead of drowning myself in sadness.
“I’m better now. I’m healing. I’m giving myself the grace everyone says I should.”
and time is offering me an extended contract with every bell and whistle I prayed for, and I don’t know if I should sign.
but there’s hope for me yet. I’ve made it to 43, and I do not feel the same.
“This is good”, I tell myself. “This is very good.”
42 is here, and I spent the day before my new age watching the glow of a toddler shine before my very eyes.
he has a way of removing my heartache and pulling the sunshine into my frame–what a gift a few words can be, especially when everything inside tells you nothing will change . . .
but you know, truly know that the perfect smile from a loved one so dear can bloom in your spirit, and give you relief.
joy comes in the mourning. grief isn’t forever. life is meant to be lived, and the child knows this, lives this, and understands this.
Jaidynn, my favorite girl. In the first picture, I caught her while she was moving some candy around in her mouth with her thumb, she is not sucking her thumb.
it seems like yesterday, I was holding you up to the sky, above my head, listening to your giggling gurgles, then bringing you back down to me, the look of complete satisfaction planted on your infant face.
you were a lightning bolt of energy, an independent force who learned quickly how to move around in our crazy world and now, at age 6 . . . I feel like I’m losing you.
a trip to the park becomes bonding time your GiGi says we need and I walk with you, your hand in mine, as we sway them in the summer breeze. you are a gymnast — bending and flexing your way through obstacles, nothing fazes you — nothing stops you. I wish I had your courage— did I ever?
a Leo in a land of lions, you are inquisitive with just the right amount of curiosity trailing every question and I hope I have shared the best answers with you, my love. these days are passing us by quicker than I can count them and I pray I am not missing out on bigger things keeping to myself as I sometimes do.
but you know me, you see my smile as a welcome mat and you pounce on me — clinging to my chest and I wrap you in my arms for the longest hug I can give. I don’t want to let go. I never want to let go.
I have to, though. eventually, I will have to let go and watch you become the lioness the stars blessed you to be. while I nestle over here in the shadows of your love, please don’t forget your big cousin who will pull words from the sky’s heart, wrestle a world of liars, and battle a carriage full of woe-is-me-ers to keep you safe.
anything to gift you mother earth’s peacefulness and blessings. you deserve nothing less.
*Today’s Jaidynn’s sixth birthday. My lil puddin’ is quickly growing up to be a not-so lil puddin’ anymore and well . . . I am a bit in my feelings about that. Happy Birthday, sweet girl.
A Cornered Gurl 
You must be logged in to post a comment.