The Last Time
My girl, Zay, is sleeping by my side as I am writing this. She is sprawled out in her bed, hands clutching her favorite blanket and breathing peacefully. I am thinking how she used to sleep just as peacefully in the crook of my arm. I am thinking how she used to cry whenever she was sleepy and I had to dance around the room while carrying her in my arms just for her to fall asleep.
And now, here she is. She seemed to have grown so fast overnight. One time, she fell asleep while watching TV and I had to lift her up and carry her to her room. And I was so surprised at how heavy she was. I can still remember how light as a feather she used to be.
I am looking at her right now and I realized that the last time I will carry her to bed is at hand. She can do that and some other stuff on her own. She now sleeps in her own bed and doesnt call out for me in the middle of the night. I can feel my heart constricting at the thought of her not needing me and her dad anymore. But I am also aware of the fact that I need to let her grow and be free and be herself.
So I will cherish each moment, each little seemingly ordinary moment. Because I might not be able to tell that it was the last time, until the time is up.
But Zay, one thing is for sure. I will still hug you and kiss you even when your all grown up, because I am your mom until the end. Because my being your mom doesnt have a last time.