Dear Sabrina Banana,
I love you so much and I would love nothing more than to spend as much time with you as possible. I would gladly and happily be with you forever if I could…but I can’t. My ego, my being, the mother in me are all aching to baby you. I want so badly to have you dependent on me, I want you to need me, to be reliant on me. I want you to have to call out my name first thing in the morning just because you need me. But I know that’s not good for you in any way. It would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t prepare you for the time I might not be with you anymore.
In a few days, you would be turning 5. That one year from 4 to 5 might not mean much in the greater scheme of things but for you, that one year spells a myriad of changes and development. The most significant for me is how much you have been striving for your independence. My heart is bursting with so much emotion, there’s sadness at losing your complete and utter dependence on me (as when you were inside my stomach), then there’s joy….joy that you are growing beautifully and developing according to your age. And of course there’s pride. Can any mother talk about her child without pride? I think not. I’m proud of the ways you are advanced, and of how you persevere inspite of any delay in your development. Lastly, I am humbled. Humbled that among all the women in the world, God chose me to be your mom. That despite my shortcomings and mistakes I was deemed worthy to raise and guide you throughout your life.
I have to recognize that I don’t own you and that despite coming from me, you are not me. And so I begrudgingly start letting you go and you are lapping up independence like your life depended on it. Yesterday you bathed, brushed your teeth and dressed yourself. Not an easy task for a kid with fine-motor delays…yes you struggled but you kept trying and you persevered! The excitement in you was palpable upon seeing your “success”. You asked me if I was proud of you…”Always” I said, and I meant it.
That night, I was resigned to not being needed anymore. Yet before you slept you looked at me and said “Mommy, do you want to snuggle?”. I smiled and said “Of course I do!”. At that moment,
I realized that letting you grow up did not mean losing you. It simply meant getting to enjoy you differently…maybe, just maybe in an even better way.