With her daddy’s blue eyes,
and her momma’s turned nose
and a personality all her own.
Born amidst a sea of women
who loved you and held you and cried
over your tiny hands and feet.
Long fingers for piano
for basketball
for reaching out and grabbing hold.
Your daddy stepped forward,
grinning proudly, cut the cord
that bound you to me;
this snipping, this severing,
this first step out on your own
only strengthened the other,
the invisible
that bound you to me.
In my heart I knew:
I would love you forever
through broken vases and curfews
and poor manners and grades.
in my arms
a tiny girl of infinite worth.
You looked at me.
I looked at you.
Two first borns.
I poured milk into your sweet tummy
as I poured loved into your sweet soul.
I loved you inch by inch,
by sound, by moment
For your sleepy laughter
And milkdrunk smiles.
Later, you looked again,
eyebrows raised in wonder,
and I cherished the double birth:
yours to life, mine to maternity,
both of us first born.
Crawling at six months
Sitting at seven
Teeth at eight
Stepping at nine
Walking at ten.
The numbers of movement
In which you never cease.
Alas, not even for sleep.
this moving forward without fear
I promise you hugs daily
Kisses hourly
And a lifetime of love.
We, two first borns, walking this path together
Two shiny pairs of shoes
With some blisters along the way.
My wish, my hope, my dream for you:
to love life
to laugh often
to not grow bitter from heartache
to pray for strength, honesty, wisdom, life.
You never want to hold my hand,
but I’ll be here anyway
chasing after you
and reminding you that we two
must love each other to weather
the storm of growing up.
That is my promise to you,
The promise of one first born
to another.
