My mommy loves me. She doesn't think she loves me enough. She doesn't think she does enough. Me? I know different. I look back over these past four and one half years and I recognize the love that is poured into every worry, into every event planned, outing scheduled, every doctor's appointment, every birthday party; I see the pain in her eyes when we part in the morning, I see the love when when she picks me up. My mommy, she is so funny, she doesn't realize it, but just being in the same room with her is enough, its more than enough, it is what fills my heart.
When people hear me talk, they have the strangest reaction. Some people think I'll become a singer because I have a little scratch to my voice...I think I get that from my Daddy, he has a scratch in his voice too...it matches his face. Other passers by comment on the words I choose. My mom says I say the darnedest things - I'm not sure what that means, but I know she holds back the giggles every time I make "Air Quotes" with my fingers and say things like, "Well, it is a possibility..." or, "On the other hand..."
I don't think people are used to such sophisticated words coming out of such a small, albeit scratchy, voice. The thing is, and I get this from both my parents, I am always thinking. Sometimes I am playing, but even when I am playing, my mind is organizing armies of dolls to attend an event, meticulously planned, or I am climbing a wall, just to count the steps. My mind organizes and counts and calculates and processes all sorts of information, all the time. Every conversation within earshot is a map for me to follow to some newly discovered imagination destination. Truth be know, it creates a little anxiety for me sometimes, arriving at the end of an imaginary road initiated by some loose lipped hair dresser discussing the effects of over chlorinated pools on pretty blonde hair. Never the less, I am always processing. So, by the time the words tumble from my mouth, unveiling a long pondered thought, they mean something, they represent precision - my sentences are more often laser-beams than flood lights and I think that catches some adults off guard.
Today is Mother's Day. Whether the words come out playfully; or the phrase seems over-used; if I mumble it with a mouth filled with Norwegian waffle; or scream it amongst tears to steal her attention from Daddy; the words are meant with the utmost forethought, with the full weight of a deeply sophisticated purpose; sometimes the gravity of this thought is passed off as courtesy, but I don't dole out pleasantries for platitudes; when I say these words, they come from four and one half years of research. I love you Mommy. While my voice may be small, these words are the very foundation upon which my entire life is built.
Happy Mother's Day
