The fridge at Mom’s is full of twenty years of photos. New years eves, babies, picture of me on stoops of houses long gone, braces and baby toes, nieces and nephews and everyone in between. I pawed at a butterfly, the symbol I share with mom for all of those we love who have gone on to other worlds.
“She’s there, you know,” Mom said, and whispers, “Little T.”
Mom pushes an energetic Sedona magnet out of the way, as if giving the little green ‘T’ a lingering space to breathe. It’s funny how she appears, even when I’m not looking for her.
Ten years gone today, our baby Tya Marie has changed our lives in ways immeasurable. Born. Still.
The complexities that have surrounded her birth have blown the winds of mysticism around me, have given me hope, and have given me the strength I needed to continue. I’ve often called out her name in the dark. Now our oldest is twelve, and she seems to count the years even before I do.
“She’s ten, you know, Mom.” Leila said this morning. “That’s double digits.” As if somewhere, she is collecting the wisdom of the ages. She’s now passed baby swings and soothers. She’s into tree planting, photography, and Musical.lys. If only we could see the places she’s flown.
Her legacy in our fam jam continues, and we’re raising everything from dogs and cats, and tweens and mascara to preschoolers in diapers, patches of potatoes and collectives of rhubarb that live in forests, boxes and barrels. We are nurturing acreages and fruit trees and passionate careers- the landscapes that were once only in our dreams.
Well thankfully my boys Led Zeppelin have a tribute song ready to go, so I’ll leave you with “Ten Years Gone”, and for T – here’s to another ten. Hope I figure out how to mother teenagers by then.
“Through the eyes an’ I sparkle
Senses growing keen
Taste your love along the way
See your feathers preen
Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes
Didn’t have to grow
We are eagles of one nest
The nest is in our soul.”
