Some people may laugh at this post. And I don’t care, because the ones who have been there, will get it.
I’m a fan of Bethanny Frankel [of Real Housewives fame]. I always have been, and probably always will be, muchly because our stories have the same plot lines, different details but the same plot. I also like her because there is no mask with her, she is who she is and anyone who doesn’t like it can eat shit and bark at the moon. Much like myself.
Tonight, the episode was about her first few days as a new mother. She at one point took her daughter who was crying and said,”No, we’re not going to let her cry over anything.” I have spoken those very words, had those very thoughts. And for the rest of the show, I was remembering myself as a new mother, having those same feelings, having been in that place where I longed so hard for a baby it hurt. And then when we were blessed with one, knowing immediately how sacred she was. But also knowing that I wanted my first child to be a girl, not at all because I wanted the girly things, but because I wanted to parent her and give her the mother I never had growing up.
As I reflected back to those early days of when Turtle was new, I remember vividly how small she was, how tiny, how perfect. And how immense my love was for her. It was like it reached out and encapsulated EVERYTHING around us, almost bubbling us in it.
And now, Turtle is almost three. She is so amazing and so perfect. Three years of utter happiness, complete joy and a love so wide and deep and intense I had no clue it really did exist. I look at her and think my god, she is so perfect how in the world could anyone want to intentionally hurt someone so small, so tiny, so perfect. How all I can feel for her is utter love, fierce protection and an I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-think,-she’s-my-child attitude. (Because, yah, I really don’t give a shit what you think.)
I was thinking about how big her life force is, how she walks anywhere and people sit up and take notice. She has the same energy I do, the same ability to make everyone turn and look when she walks into the room. I have always had that, and I hated it for the longest time, until I understood it, and then I embraced and loved it. And now Turtle is the one who gets the attention. And I don’t care. Because she IS so amazing and so incredible and perfect.
I think it only right that each generation have children who exceed their parents, — naturally, as well as in all other ways. I know how incredible and talented Mihigna and I are, but Turtle surpasses us. She has since day one. As I lay in bed holding Turtle, whispering in her ear of my love, joy and gratefulness for her, I thought of what I have written here.
Turtle, it IS all about you, and THAT is the way it should be. You are the love of our lives and our greatest joy. Our lives are better because YOU came to us. I will tear up, smile and be overjoyed every minute that I think of you, or look at you, or be blessed to be in your presence, because you are so incredible. Thank you for being ours; thank you for completing us. I will do my best to love you unconditionally, completely and fully as you deserve. You are as close to Tunkasila as we could get here on earth.
Turtle, I don’t know everything; in fact, in the great scheme of things, I know very little. But there are some things I’m as sure of as the rising sun:
ONE: you are the greatest gift I have EVER received, the most amazing piece of work I have EVER created, and am the proudest of.
TWO: I am so far from being perfect, and I have never been an Ina*, so I’m sure I’ll screw up at times and be a real jerk, but I will never intentionally hurt you, or soul wound you, or do anything to blatantly cause you harm, tears or pain. You are the love of my life and I would do anything for you.
THREE: You have brought me a joy and love I never knew or experienced before in my life. EVER. (Meeting your At’e, falling in love and marrying him DO come in there pretty close, but that is different.)
I will love you forever….and ever….and ever and ever.
Tewahila lila tanka,
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