So. Mother’s Day and here I am finally where I intended to be: here at my favorite library with my coffee, blogging away like nothing else matters. I have peace (or some semblance of it anyway). Some quiet (except for the occasional snore of some guy some desks over). And I know for a lot of mothers, this is what they wanted. So I guess you could say I got lucky this time. Or so you’d think.
What I do not have is what actually makes me a mother: my daughter is halfway around the world. And I miss her, I miss her so much. She has grown up without me by her side and is now a teenager. We have already started the petition for her and hopefully she’ll be here by next year. And I can’t wait for that. I can’t wait to be with her again.
I know I don’t talk about her so much. My yoga teacher was surprised when she found out this morning that I had a kid; said she doesn’t see me posting about her a lot. I told her she’s far away at the moment and left it at that.
I don’t talk about her a lot because it hurts so fucking much that we’re so far away. I hope she forgives me for not always being available. I have been trying to be strong all this time, compartmentalizing and keeping my longing for her in a precious box that I do not open as often as I should probably be doing because I am messed up as it is already and do not care to tip myself over the edge if I can help it. Call it self-preservation. She needs a somewhat sane version of me and this is all I could do to keep myself precariously in that fragile state.
