A Daughter

My daughter is a wonder to me…

I was ignorant enough to feel fear when I heard there was a girl baby in my tummy in February of 2009. The months leading up to Miss Sunday’s June birth were actually spent in a tiny bit of denial. A girl? Really?! What about the big brood of boys I had determined I would have, a passel of young men to protect me and dote on me in my old age?…

But Mrs. Gore is a stupid, stupid woman.

My Rebekah…

I breathe her name with reverence. I look upon her with awe. My heart’s connection to hers is vibrant. For when she arrived in my world, all pink and rosy and perfect, she told me a secret, silently unlocking a mystery that I had never before understood. She told me, without ever speaking, why there are so many giftbooks dedicated to daughters…she wordlessly explained the bond we would share for the rest of our lives…she, with a glance, opened up an entire world to me that had been so hidden I didn’t even know how badly I should want to go there.

I’ve been a daughter my entire life, but having a daughter…well, all of a sudden I understand how my Mom feels about me. And I’ve never felt so loved.

My daughter…

Someone to swing with me while Papa and Brother fish. She sits in my lap, facing me with her little legs wrapped around my waist, sometimes looking up at the sky to say “Wheeeeee!”, sometimes burrowing her face into my neck, sometimes looking into my eyes with so much trust and adoration and innocence…she is thinking infantile thoughts, just happy in the moment; I am thinking of how I would give up the entire world to protect her.

Someone who watches me with wonder as I put on my make-up. Her eyes are curious and shy as she watches my every move, her tiny little reflection peeking out from behind me in the mirror. The master bathroom is our own secret place where perfume is sprayed, jewelry boxes are explored, fancy shoes are tried on, and occasionally, the powder brush is passed from my hand to hers, and her delight burgeons as she gently and reverently taps the brush on her cheeks, just like Mama.

Someone who wants to don her child-sized apron, a miniature version of my own, and work in her child-sized kitchen, mirroring the chores she sees me take part in day after day. She puts away her dishes, she sweeps, she fusses over spills, she straightens up crooked rugs, she smooths the clean washrags out and tries to fold them into neat squares. Her actions seal a promise that someday, and someday quite soon, I will have a helper by my side, not just to lessen the workload, but to commune with as we tackle the daily duties God has entrusted to us.

Someone to sing to me. Her voice…so sweet, so cherubic…washes over me in the most soothing way. Each word she speaks is enchanting, each melody she sings is recognizable, each laugh is like the tinkling of a thousand distant bells. Girlishness rolls off of her tongue, eliciting the purest delight from this heart that adores her…and my smile is continually inspired by the pleasure of her company.

Softness. Lace. A field of flowers. A tiny floral print on fabric. A babydoll. A pretty song…

All of them have lost their individual identities and point to one thing…

My Rebekah.

My daughter.

My mystery, revealed, and cherished for eternity.

2 thoughts on “A Daughter

  1. I couldn’t agree with you more about the transcending power of the mother daughter relationship! Truly, my reason for living and loving all this time. So happy you have the experience. And someday you’ll have a little Shelby….and the world becomes magic!

    Love you,
    Susan

    • What a treat to have you here at my blog! I only wish you were at my front door instead – I miss you! I admire your relationships with your daughters so much…it’s no wonder they are two of the most talented and unique and beautiful women on the planet…I look up to them so very much. (And you, of course!) And I’ve got to tell you…I’m already looking forward to having grandchildren, because I can tell it is one of the sweetest seasons in life. My Mom is just reveling in it, and I know you are too. (and Grandmother makes being a Great-Grandmother look like even MORE fun!)
      I love you – thanks so much for sharing your comments.

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