The Wedding

On April 20, 1997, after a difficult pregnancy, our first child finally made his way into this world. I was 24 years old and had no idea what I was doing, I just knew that I was more in love with him than I ever thought possible.

One early morning when Dakota was just a few months old I laid us both down in my bed after a long sleepless night. I was hoping for a nap, instead I found myself lying there just staring at him. I watched his long lashes flutter while he dreamt, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way he turned toward me craving my presence even in his sleep, his tiny hand gripping my arm. We were a team, the two of us and I realized that while right now he was mine and I was his, one day that all would change and he would walk away.

The thought of another woman taking my place was all at once brutal and crucial. While I didn’t want to be replaced, I wanted him to find and know a love like his father and I had. With tears falling while he slept peacefully beside me I quickly wrote down the words that were racing through my head. ‘You Walk Away’, was a glimpse into how I imagined our future together and I wasn’t very far off.

Tomorrow his father and I will walk with him down the aisle as he leads us to our seats where we’ll watch as he pledges his love and his life to the woman we prayed for; and when they walk back up the aisle together hand in hand as husband and wife I will know without a doubt that he will be walking towards a beautiful future.

Dakota, you were a beautiful little boy with the sweetest soul. You have grown into a handsome man with that same sweet spirit. Thank you for making me a mama, thank you for forgiving me for everything I did wrong since I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, thank you for loving me unconditionally, mostly though, I want to thank you for being you and never truly walking away.

You Walk Away (© 1997)

It seems like just yesterday that you were in the warm confines of my body, I felt your hiccups, kicks, punches, and somersaults. You climbed your way into the world and entered the loving embrace of my arms. I touch your fingers and toes, cuddle and kiss you, I nurse you and then they take you off to the nursery. It is the first time in nine months to be away from you. I feel empty as I watch them walk away with you.

Four months later, you decide that you want to hold a bottle, not be restricted in my arms while I nurse you. I watch as your daddy takes you and your bottle off to bed as he carries you away.

You’re too attached to me they say. Is there such a thing? I put you in preschool, they have to peel your arms off of my body when I drop you off and you run to me when I pick you up at first. You like your teacher though, and you make new friends. One day we enter the classroom and I love the fact that you see your group and I get to watch you run away.

Kindergarten comes and your eyes plead to be a baby again and climb up in my arms, but your pride makes you act strong. Tentatively you step into the large school, you take one last look back at me and then you see a friend, I take a deep breath as I watch you walk away.

The truck is washed, you look so handsome in your tux, you growl when I take your picture and balk at my kiss as you leave to pick up your prom date, I take another picture as you drive away.

You got a scholarship, you’re so excited, good dorm, great friends and lots of parties and girls in your future. You don’t want your mom to help you move-in, I watch as under the weight of the boxes you stagger away.

“She looks beautiful!”, I say. “I can’t wait for you to see her, I hope y’all will be happy and that all of your dreams come true, don’t make me wait too long for grandbabies.” The Pastor pronounces you husband and wife and through eyes overflowing with tears I watch you walk down the aisle towards your new life and the woman in it, giving her the hugs and kisses that used to be mine.

You both run through a shower of birdseed towards the truck, at the end you stop and turn around. I watch you walk towards me, “I love you mom,” you say. “I’ll call you when we get back.”

My heart is full as I watch you both walk away.