showing me her ballet feet
This morning my daughter Olivia gave me the sweetest of all good morning kisses, just before she squeezed me tight and said, "Oh Mimi, I love you like the morning light."
She knows just when I need a hug, she reads my every mood like a fortuneteller. She hasn't called me Mimi in a while. Did she know it would be like the softest lullaby to my ears? Mimi was what she called me when she was first talking, having trouble with the words Mom or Mama. I took on the name and loved it. (I have never liked the name Tricia) Mimi stuck and for a while it was all I was called by others as well, my mom, my husband, my stepdaughter all called me Mimi. I grew to think of myself as Mimi and then gradually I was Mom, and then Mama and only Mimi on occasion.
Sometimes I miss that, sometimes I have difficulty with change, with her growing up. I want to hold on to everything.
I am learning to let go.
Ahhh...but Olivia, she is a sweet soul. Sometimes she is the teacher and I am the student. That is just the way of all children I am told.