To Heather, With Love

Friday September 15, 2017:  
My phone rings and on the display it shows up as "My Baby Girl".  While my head knows that Heather is 18 years old, my heart wants to argue. My eyes see her cleaning her room, folding favorite cardigans and jeans into suitcases, and returning miscellaneous clothing to me that she has borrowed. My hands think that I should still be cleaning her room and folding her laundry.

Yes, the logical side of me sees and recognizes the obvious. My baby girl is now a young adult and she is heading though that door tomorrow into the next phase of her life. My heart still wants to argue a little, but not too much because I really love seeing the woman that Heather has become.

Heather was always my attached-at-the-hip baby and toddler. I called her my high-maintenance baby but secretly, I think I kind of liked it. Maybe not every day, and maybe not at that time, but in looking back, those times are cherished.

When she was almost three years old, she suddenly burst out of her baby girl chrysalis and became my independent, determined, social little butterfly girl. She was not afraid to go after what she wanted, whether it was learning to ride a bike or a horse, dancing in her first pair of ballet shoes, composing a salutatorian speech, or deciding on a future career path.

Remember that Mother Goose poem about the little girl with the curl? When she was good, she was very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid? That could be Heather. She could be stubborn, she could be defiant and had a few conversations with the wooden spoon. This picture of her is one of my favorites because it captured this moment of complete irritation towards someone or something. But for Heather, this look could be transformed into a cheeky grin or belly laugh in the next minute. She was my little tornado; all storm one second and then calmness in the next breath.
 On this last evening before college, instead of hearing girls giggling over an episode of I Love Raymond, I am hearing loud shrieks of laughter, groans of defeat and all manner of sounds in-between as Heather and Ryan play Mario Cart.  How long will it be until I hear these words again, "Mom, we aren't fighting. We're just playing."  These two kiddos of mine....they love to pick on each other even when they know it makes me crazy. And yet, to them, it's their way of showing love.

Yeah, I don't get it either...

...but I'm missing it already.



















Saturday September 16, 2017:  Today is the day. Heather was packed up and ready last evening. She could have driven out by herself and been totally fine, but this was one of those attached-at-the-hip moments and I was thankful for one more trip together. And the two of us, we just get each other; there was no need for deep conversation and the long silences were completely comfortable. We are alike so often in our moods and we know when to give each other space and when we need to reach out.

Sometimes those comfortable silences where punctuated by crazy laughter by the elder party. I like capturing Heather in moments of surprise. She does not enjoy this in the same way and I promised not to put any of those pictures here. But believe me, there were some funny ones!! 

And after about 4 hours and 15 min, we arrived and somebody wanted to change her mind about the whole thing. It wasn't me.  By the time I peeled her clenched fingers off the steering wheel, she'd already changed her mind. (Remember, she's like a tornado sometimes with those moods!)

 There she goes into the dorm and there she is after unpacking and getting settled in. She really will be fine. I'm so proud of her. And yes, I may be wiping a tear away or two. And just like that, we are down to one child at home.

I haven't been outnumbered in this house before. I've always had at least one girl to go to when I needed a shoe opinion or an outfit idea. And when I was PMSing, I always had at least one other person in my corner. Now, so much testosterone. Who am I going to go to my annual Celtic Thunder concert with? Heather has been my steady companion the last couple of years.

Dear Heather,

I love you. Let me start with that because no matter what, always and forever, I love you. When you were a whirlwind of temper, I loved you. When you were a confidently tap dancing to "I've been working on the Railroad", I loved you. When you had a bad haircut (even though I thought it was totally adorable and you weren't a coconut head), I loved you. When you bit Adrienne on the butt even though you were old enough to know better, and then tried to avoid the inevitable punishment, I loved you. When you had a stressful day at school and felt overwhelmed by it all, I loved you. I loved seeing you at work, serving people amazing coffee creations, always with a smile. I loved seeing you a little shaken pulling into Rosedale, but then gathering your courage and jumping in with your shoulders back and head held high.

Heather, you will always be My Baby Girl and I will love you always to the moon and beyond and back. Keep dancing through life. XOXOXO

Love,
Mama aka Dianne