Chicago / Madrid / Musings

Momma’s Girl

It has been more than a month since I wrote about transitioning and, as expected, so much has happened in that time. I have said so many goodbyes (many gut-wrenching); I’ve moved my life- twice; my eyes have welled with tears more times than I can count; I’ve laughed until I thought my sides would burst. It’s been full. Life has been full.

Now, as I sit in this very quiet airport terminal, I know life will continue to be full but very differently. And for a moment- or, honestly, two- I second guess myself. The scene of ten minutes ago plays and plays in my mind. I turned to my mother at the swell of the security line knowing that my time with her was fading away… literally fleeting. Despite being well past the age of tearful youth, I quickened our goodbye for fear that the lump in my throat would find its voice and scream, “No! No! I don’t want to go!” before I could capture it back knowing if it found air then it would be too late. I realized in that quick, quiet moment that although I’ve made the cross Atlantic trip more times than I’ve made domestic ones, you always feel like a little kid when you have to say bye to your mom. You always want to stay. It doesn’t matter how often you go or how stoic one is. I believe a mother who has given her life for your bettering, as mine has, fundamentally holds a portion of your heart. To leave her is to leave a part of your heart and the protection you know you have in her behind. That’s the great thing about mothers: they tend just as faithfully despite physical absence because they recognize what they hold.

And so though I will leave today to rejoin all the pieces I’ve scattered across my travels, I trust what I’ve left with her today knowing the next time we hug the lump will not be a source of fear and hurry. No, next time the lump will get to scream out without restrain because this time it will be rejoicing, “I’m back! I’m back! You are still here for me!”


One thought on “Momma’s Girl

  1. Pingback: Anna, where have you been? | A City in Colour

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