Call it a gift of motherhood. A reliving of sorts. I’m able to access softness in a place that was previously hard, light where there was darkness, love where there was pain, and a sense of celebration where there had previously been a desperation to escape.
Escape…withdraw…shut out…hibernate…pretend as-if this day doesn’t exist or matter. At least, not on an earthly plane. The problem is…this tactic is not sustainable or real…or as life is supposed to be lived. Keyword…lived. We are meant to experience joy and peace in our hearts. We are meant to live and love…out loud…every day, and especially on days like today…when the person we are celebrating is seemingly absent.
Thank you, Michael, for helping me heal and release this pain… bringing back the joy and celebration of Father’s Day. In seeing the way Desiree looks to you, I remember the way I looked to mine.
Today, we celebrate you…we love and cherish all that you are.
“This handprint is a gift to remind you of how small my hands are right now. The hands you hold. The hands you cover with kisses after I cover them in ketchup. The size of my hands is destined to change …I mean, have you seen mommy’s hands?! That’s the point and perfection. As they do, the imprint on my heart simply deepens.”
That imprint is forever…I know. It’s just like the love of a girl for her Dada…xo.