MY BEAUTIFUL HANNAH
She called yesterday afternoon after school because she had locked herself out of her car. I was only too happy to pick her up. She is my last one of four amazing children and I wanted to steal every moment to be with her.
Every morning, I make her a lunch bag. I take some whole grain bread, spread some goat cheese and then some pesto sauce on both sides, lay a slice of provolone cheese on one side and then pile some roast turkey breast on top of it. I then arrange a few slices of avocado, seedless English cucumbers and roma tomatoes and top that off with a crisp curly lettuce leaf. After making sure the sandwich is now a beautifully arranged tower of yummy goodness, I will carefully wrap it in foil. I usually make two trips a week to Whole Foods Store to get Honey Crisp or Ambrosia apples for her lunch but I found some beautiful organic red Bartlett pears. So yesterday, I washed a pear and lovingly dried it with a paper towel just for her. After placing the sandwich and pear in a brown bag, I decided to throw in a small bag of raw almonds. Hers would be a healthy lunch. I love preparing her lunch and relish every detail. In time, I will not have the privilege to do so.
She will be graduating in June as valedictorian in a very competitive high school. She will give a valedictory speech. Her life is ahead of her and there are wonderful experiences that she is well prepared for. I'd like to think that I gave her an abundance of tools to empower her ability to govern herself wisely. I've been with her through high school crushes, romances, a break-up. . . and oh that was fierce. But with great insight and intelligence, she has borne it all so wisely. My daughter is a sage... an ancient spirit in a beautiful vessel. And if kindness were a living, breathing entity, then it would be her.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment and in that moment, I can capture images of her. Sometimes she is practicing her violin and I am awed by her music. But most of the time, I see her playing her piano. She is so gifted. She is working on a jazz piece and each time I hear it, it sounds different. She is improvising. I remember when she was just learning to read notes. Now, she is playing music. I can tell from her music and touch if she is feeling happy. And I can tell when she is playing with a certain longing. Our home was always filled with music. And I take it all in desperately trying to embed every note, every chord, every touch of the keys in my heart.
The door opens and she is home. She has a special someone who gave her a ride home instead. I wonder if he knows how privileged he is to have her attention. She is exceptional in all she does. There is something innate in her that moves her to compete with herself---to extend, to reach, to excel. I don't have to bribe her or push her. She simply knows what to do.
I feel like doing something for her so I invite her to the mall to shop for an "outfit". There is no reason for it. And perhaps others will say that I spoil her. But how can I spoil her? She is unspoilable. I have a fabulous time with her. She is beautiful and whatever she tries on magically looks marvelous on her tiny frame.
I have the extra key to her car and after our mall purchases, I drive her to the high school parking lot where there is a lone car sitting in the middle of a vast student parking lot. I park my car next to her little Corolla. I watch her start the car and wait for her to drive out and then I follow her home.
The traffic light turns yellow and she slows down instead of speeding ahead. I stop behind her mindful that she is again playing with her hair as she waits for the light to turn green. I remember how thick and wild her hair was when she was born. Her face was flat and chubby. She was so adorable and calm. My baby will be graduating from high school and before the summer is over, will leave for college and I will not know what to do.
She signals to make a right turn and I do the same. I watch her maneuver the car smoothly to complete a turn and I marvel that this same child who used to tug at my skirt can go places by herself with such confidence. She is turning into our gate now and as I stop behind her while she waits for the gate to open, I wonder if she knows how many times I've driven her to and from her various destinations. I wonder if she will remember the times when she sat next to me in the car and talked about school, her projects, her friends and knock-knock jokes. I wonder if she will remember all the kisses, hugs and cuddles with her mommy.
She is now turning into our driveway as the garage door opens. I know she is listening to her ipod and that her mind is on many things--school and a certain boy. I carry a prayer in my heart that she will always remember that she has the power to change the world just by choosing how to view it. Suddenly, I remember that it wasn't so long ago that I carried her around on my hip just because I enjoyed her baby scent, the softness of her arms, the satin feel of her wild hair. Now she is a beautiful young woman fully grown and she is flesh of my flesh, forever a part of me.
She opens her car door and pulls out her backpack. I open my door and we walk towards the house now. Me and my beautiful Hannah. We are home now. And for now, all is right with the world.
Every morning, I make her a lunch bag. I take some whole grain bread, spread some goat cheese and then some pesto sauce on both sides, lay a slice of provolone cheese on one side and then pile some roast turkey breast on top of it. I then arrange a few slices of avocado, seedless English cucumbers and roma tomatoes and top that off with a crisp curly lettuce leaf. After making sure the sandwich is now a beautifully arranged tower of yummy goodness, I will carefully wrap it in foil. I usually make two trips a week to Whole Foods Store to get Honey Crisp or Ambrosia apples for her lunch but I found some beautiful organic red Bartlett pears. So yesterday, I washed a pear and lovingly dried it with a paper towel just for her. After placing the sandwich and pear in a brown bag, I decided to throw in a small bag of raw almonds. Hers would be a healthy lunch. I love preparing her lunch and relish every detail. In time, I will not have the privilege to do so.
She will be graduating in June as valedictorian in a very competitive high school. She will give a valedictory speech. Her life is ahead of her and there are wonderful experiences that she is well prepared for. I'd like to think that I gave her an abundance of tools to empower her ability to govern herself wisely. I've been with her through high school crushes, romances, a break-up. . . and oh that was fierce. But with great insight and intelligence, she has borne it all so wisely. My daughter is a sage... an ancient spirit in a beautiful vessel. And if kindness were a living, breathing entity, then it would be her.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment and in that moment, I can capture images of her. Sometimes she is practicing her violin and I am awed by her music. But most of the time, I see her playing her piano. She is so gifted. She is working on a jazz piece and each time I hear it, it sounds different. She is improvising. I remember when she was just learning to read notes. Now, she is playing music. I can tell from her music and touch if she is feeling happy. And I can tell when she is playing with a certain longing. Our home was always filled with music. And I take it all in desperately trying to embed every note, every chord, every touch of the keys in my heart.
The door opens and she is home. She has a special someone who gave her a ride home instead. I wonder if he knows how privileged he is to have her attention. She is exceptional in all she does. There is something innate in her that moves her to compete with herself---to extend, to reach, to excel. I don't have to bribe her or push her. She simply knows what to do.
I feel like doing something for her so I invite her to the mall to shop for an "outfit". There is no reason for it. And perhaps others will say that I spoil her. But how can I spoil her? She is unspoilable. I have a fabulous time with her. She is beautiful and whatever she tries on magically looks marvelous on her tiny frame.
I have the extra key to her car and after our mall purchases, I drive her to the high school parking lot where there is a lone car sitting in the middle of a vast student parking lot. I park my car next to her little Corolla. I watch her start the car and wait for her to drive out and then I follow her home.
The traffic light turns yellow and she slows down instead of speeding ahead. I stop behind her mindful that she is again playing with her hair as she waits for the light to turn green. I remember how thick and wild her hair was when she was born. Her face was flat and chubby. She was so adorable and calm. My baby will be graduating from high school and before the summer is over, will leave for college and I will not know what to do.
She signals to make a right turn and I do the same. I watch her maneuver the car smoothly to complete a turn and I marvel that this same child who used to tug at my skirt can go places by herself with such confidence. She is turning into our gate now and as I stop behind her while she waits for the gate to open, I wonder if she knows how many times I've driven her to and from her various destinations. I wonder if she will remember the times when she sat next to me in the car and talked about school, her projects, her friends and knock-knock jokes. I wonder if she will remember all the kisses, hugs and cuddles with her mommy.
She is now turning into our driveway as the garage door opens. I know she is listening to her ipod and that her mind is on many things--school and a certain boy. I carry a prayer in my heart that she will always remember that she has the power to change the world just by choosing how to view it. Suddenly, I remember that it wasn't so long ago that I carried her around on my hip just because I enjoyed her baby scent, the softness of her arms, the satin feel of her wild hair. Now she is a beautiful young woman fully grown and she is flesh of my flesh, forever a part of me.
She opens her car door and pulls out her backpack. I open my door and we walk towards the house now. Me and my beautiful Hannah. We are home now. And for now, all is right with the world.
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