i survived my first decade without you.
though it feels like just yesterday
you helped me undo all of the labels and titles
i slapped to my identity
to ease my ache for affirmation and likability.
your words,
wrapped in the love that only you could offer,
always reminded me that i was enough.
i was your daughter.
i made it through college and all of its extracurriculars,
but i really could’ve used your wisdom
when it came to relationships, in particular.
i pursued big goals and dreams;
i ignored what they said about age.
i made sure to chat with you before every performance.
yup, even the ones on the “Great Stage.”
but that ache i mentioned was chronic,
the one only your voice could soothe.
how could i love my life but not me?
i questioned if your words were true.
i searched high for my truth
but had to fall to meet my own gaze.
it’s funny. you always said,
“God works in mysterious ways.”
because I’d reached the point
where I wanted to just disappear.
your voice wasn’t there anymore
and doing it by myself was my fear.
as i sat in my hole,
hours on days with my thoughts,
unlearning toxic habits
and working through my haunts.
i heard my voice, finally,
without the condescension and darkness,
and decided it was something
i needed to nurture and harness
with warmth and grace
and, of course, love.
without labels and definitions
to allow room for me to evolve.
i now realize your words,
wrapped in the love that only you could offer,
were never meant to undo,
but rather to give my voice a bolster.
i smile when i think of the hummingbird you sent,
once i came above water,
to remind me that you’re always there.
that i am enough.
i am your daughter.
i survived my first decade without you,
and i’ve learned many things to be true.
but i know, without a doubt,
i made it because of you.
Have you lost a parent or loved one? How do you deal with losing someone close to you?
Image via Raisa Zwart Photography
