Learning by Heart

Remember the day you were born? I learned awe and fear.

Remember learning how to tie your shoes? Taking your first steps? Reading your first book? When you learned how to ride a bike? I learned pride in accomplishment.

Remember the Halloween we made your little red riding hood costume? I learned perseverance. And how to sew.

Remember that time at the library you came running out to greet me with a big hug and I was so surprised you would do that in front of your friends, I didn't think to hug you back? I learned awareness.

Remember blowing bubbles in the back yard at Nanny and Papa's? I learned about time well spent.

Remember playing softball even when you couldn't get a hit? I learned bravery.

Remember the times we yelled at you for no good reason? And made you cry? And you still hugged us good night and told us you loved us? I learned forgiveness.

Remember how beautiful you felt being a bridesmaid in your Uncle's wedding? I learned what true beauty was.

Remember when your best friend flirted with all your boyfriends? And was mean to you? And told all your secrets? You still hugged her when she cried. I learned generosity of spirit and the true meaning of friendship.

Remember how jealous you felt when you were seven and became the oldest grandchild instead of the only one? I learned empathy.

Remember the awe you felt when you held your new baby cousin? I learned to recognize true love.

Remember that deficiency report you got in History? Oh, but wait, you forgot. You forgot to give it to me. I found it the other day. I learned patience.

Remember the smell of baking Christmas cookies, the tranquil brilliance of the lights on the mantel, and surprising someone with a gift you'd made yourself? I learned the true meaning of Christmas.

Remember the year I wasn't there? I learned to appreciate family.

Remember your first date? You went bowling. You wouldn't wear the shoes. Because they were ugly. And you wouldn't eat your hamburger because you didn't want him to see you chew. Remember his freckles and his big ears? I learned when to be silent.

Remember the disappointment of those two points that kept you from making the gymnastics team? But you kept practicing anyway. I learned dedication.

Remember our girls only trip to Virginia? And white water tubing? And the Japanese steakhouse? And making fun of Alicia? And six of us in a five-passenger car? I learned how to have fun. And how to get ready to go in less than five minutes.

Remember best friends and giggling, sleepovers and dying your hair (and the new silver rug) purple? And that time you and your cousins dumped all my shampoos and conditioners into the bathtub to make your "potion?" I learned how to laugh.

Remember the pain and the guilt visiting your best friend in the hospital after she overdosed? I learned to listen.

When you were born, I was just old enough to have a baby. Old enough to worry I wasn't ready. Old enough to be scared I wouldn't be able to take care of you. Old enough to wonder what I could teach you. Old enough to doubt it would be enough. Old enough to ask if I could handle the responsibility. Old enough to realize I wasn't old enough. Old enough to love you and not too old to learn. Old enough to be a mother.

I've learned. You've taught me. Children do the teaching and parents, if they're paying attention, do the learning.

You taught me what and how to remember. You taught me what was important and what wasn't. Everyday, you teach me to be better than I am.

Remember I love you with all that I am.

Remember I would sacrifice anything for you.

Remember how much you gave me just by being born.

Remember that you are a gift.

Never forget

You are my heart.

I learned.