Dear child, I love you so much. It is your face, your face with your closed mouth smile. You, standing at the edge of the driveway among the chicory and bayberry. You, waving goodbye as I drive off to my Tuesday night class, my class that keeps me sane. You, your closed mouth smile, that’s how you smile, waving goodbye.
That’s my meditation. That’s my heart opening meditation, your smiling face as you stand beside the bayberry and chicory on the edge of the driveway.
I love you dearly, and you test me. My patience, my love, my skills.
My, you are stubborn. When you speak, you speak your mind. There is no doubting your truth.
There, I labeled you.
Here, I will tell you how I feel about your character. Amazed. Challenged. Frustrated. Pleased. Worried. Relieved. Supportive. Unaware, at least when we agree.
You have always been this way. There, I labeled you again. Confining both of us in a struggle, maybe. Or, an understanding, maybe.
A teacher to my son told me, “I had two stubborn, willful sons. I admire how you handle it. I release you into that wilderness.”