TwitterDec 01 2009
My day, ho hum, but glowing memories. . .
The day just finished nine minutes ago! And I’m here reflecting. This is where I break my day down and map it out for you in 550-650 words (hopefully 
). Today was mostly typical. Worked on the business, went to my job. Both went well. Made headway on some of those picky icy areas that needed sorting out. Went to John1′s to work on some things, got John2 on the speaker phone and for a couple hours we picked, poked, found solutions, and made some decisions. So headway. Perfect.
That’s my day from the black and white “entrepreneur business woman” end. Not too exciting really. Shrug. Today what I think was worthy of ink to paper was this:
After work my eldest daughter whose name is Blessing, wasn’t feeling well at all. I brought her some herbs, gave them to her with a glass of water, sat on the bed next to her, and rubbed her stomach for about 45 minutes. Trying to sooth her past the pain and into sleep. Her slender face was pale and winched with that drained look of exhaustion one has from dealing with a non-stop, crippling cramp that steals away even the ability to speak.
As I sat there in the silence of the soft, amber glow casting a small puddle of light into the room, all I could think was 19 years ago what I was now rubbing was called a “tummy”. It was tiny and taunt and fit below my hand. When she was sick I would scoop her up out of her crib, cradle her in the crook of my arm, and rub that tiny belly. As she grew I eased her small body up from her twin bed onto me, sat on its edge, and rubbed her tummy. Except now my hand didn’t cover nearly as much and her twin bed continuously seemed to shrink as her form covered more of it.
She’s 19 now and sleeps on a full size mattress. Beautiful and grown. Exuding the freshness and exuberance of a healthy adult, anxious to fully embrace the wonders that life holds for her as an adult. I watch as she struggles to fully experience the weight of her independence. Such a healthy thing. A necessary thing. Such an uncertain, wobbly time. Wanting me at times and not at others.
But I’m proud to say that she’s doing a terrific job moving from her youth/teens on into her adulthood. She’s sturdy, strong, and loving. A hard worker and wise with her money. For the last few months she’s been working her way towards her first apartment and if all goes according to plan, and it appears that is, she will be securing it and moving in in January.
So as I sat there in the quiet of the evening, on the well worn side of her bed reminiscing through time I couldn’t help but think…after January life is never going to be the same . . .
Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
-It’s now 1:18 a.m. and I’m heading for bed.
You are an amazing Mom. I read this blog with tears in my eyes. You painted a beautiful set of pictures for me with your words. Blessing was probably thinking you were a blessing for coming to the rescue.
Thank you. She was very grateful. But so was I.
Theresa Jane