Dear Reese,
Someday, I’ll teach you about tapping. I tap my fingers on my chest in a steady rhythm, just a few moments in the middle of the day. I’ll teach you about what it means if you’re someone whose chest gets tight. I’ll show you how to breathe. I’ll remind you to move your body. I’ll walk beside you while you walk towards whatever has you knotted and scared. I’ll tell you that whenever I want to hide, I feel better once I’ve stepped into the light.
My dad gave me a medallion last year that I keep on my desk. One side has this quote from Marcus Aurelius: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
The other side reads “The obstacle is the way".
Years ago I wrote down this vision statement for myself, a guidepost to how I wanted to be in the world: I am brave. I show up. I move forward.
I let the mantra play when my chest gets tight. Breathe. Show up.
All of this to say, darling, it was hard to show up today. But you made it easier with your big smiles from dusk to dawn. I wish instead we had been together all day. I wish that life required nothing of me today but to be your mom. Today I was a mom who even sent you with a lunch to daycare — an Eggo and some mandarin oranges. I was very proud of myself.
But today I was also a mom who had to work and part of that work was extra heavy. So I tap a little, and breathe a lot, and show up the best I know how for the people in my care.
After, I go get you from daycare where you grin when I walk in the room. At home, I hold you on my hip while I make mac & cheese, comfort food for both of us.
Before bed, you curl into my chest while I sing “Seven Daffodils”. Whatever tightness remains subsides as I lay you down to sleep.
Love,
Mama