Less than 24 hours of “being an adult”
and I feel complete.
As if I have waited an eternity to be here,
in this moment.
Yet, I can’t help but morn, for the child
I lost in the process. No more
building legos till bedtime, no more
believing in Santa, no more
unfazed scraped knees.
Now bedtime is a suggestion,
now Santa is our parents,
now scraped knees have to be cleaned.
But, being clean only matters
when you are dirty,
when you have lived enough
to be marked by a moment
that branded your existence.
I still look up at the stars and wish on them,
I still go on swing sets,
I still write the same
silly scribbles I started when I was 10.
The child in me is not lost,
but playing hide and seek,
in the fog of growing into responsibility.
The funeral I held was not black and blue,
but a bright yellow.
Gratefulness for my past, joy for my future.
A celebration of the life I have lived.
Heather • Feb 8, 2024 at 2:12 pm
Love this Mia!!!!!