Confession

I look at her, straddling an invisible line, poised on the edge of adulthood and struggle with my feelings. Pride wars with fear, anger and sadness battle a sense of awe and wonder while they are all overshadowed by a deep rush of love that only a mother comprehends. She is incredible, from the tiny little ball of arms and legs that the midwife placed in my arms to a stunning creature of light and laughter, somehow in the blink of an eye while I held my breath. Strong and stubborn, with a heart vast as the sea this child of my womb has evolved into a woman and my heart swells with pride to see her standing tall. I have no call to this happiness that rises up, her accomplishments are her own and rightly hers to claim, my joy lies in their sheer existence at all. Despite my lack, my absence and my utter ignorance, she has risen up, as the plant among the weeds grabbing for the sunlight to blossom in its warmth. She is glorious to behold, her laughter resonating in my bones and calling to a soul weeping in gratitude with the echo. This is not of my design, yet here she stands, a testament to the power of something beyond me, and I am humbled.