In twenty three days, my firstborn angel will be twenty-one years old. As she counts the days until, I feel a vivid bittersweet tugging sensation which causes me to want to go back instead of forward, if only for a little while.
When she closes her eyes like this, I can flash back to a time when I held this precious child in my arms while watching her sleep. I can feel her soft, little ringlets of baby hair wrapped gently around my fingers. I can feel her head nuzzled perfectly against my breast, her breath as silken as an angel's wings.
Her smile and her laughter are the same as they were when she was small, only deeper and filled with more richness. Her eyes still sparkle with the same brightness that only a wise and loving soul could radiate.
So much about her is just as she has always been, yet so much about her is also a mystery still yet to be fulfilled. She is my firstborn angel standing confidently and excitedly on the edge of twenty-one. And I am her Mother, letting go slowly yet deliberately, so that she may now use what I have taught her to soar on her own. Hoping, praying, that she will always find a soft place to land. My wish for you is the same. May you always find a soft place to land, when you need to rest your wings. May you always be surrounded by loved ones who can help to lift you back up when you are, once again, ready to soar.
P.S.-Kitties are angels who have furry wings.
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