A Travel Day

The night before we left, I helped SIR string the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banners from the ceiling.  I laughed at the cards the kids created (I hope you had a good time being 38) and smiled at the grown up presents she was receiving.

Then, I went to sleep, which was something I did not do while she was deciding whether or not she wanted to be born.  With a little help from science, she appeared outside my body just after 12 noon.... not midnight, as her birth certificate read.  It was Memorial Day weekend, everyone wanted to be somewhere else, except me.

My little girl slept comfortably, nursed well, and when she wailed while being used as the demonstration baby in the bathing class I swooped her right out of the nurse's arms and took her back to our bed.  Don't poke the Mama Bear.

I read her stories over the phone when she was scared at sleep away camp.  I rubbed her back to help her fall asleep when being a teen was just too much.  We ate St. Patrick's Day corned beef and cabbage with our fingers.  I made sure there was a pot roast in the oven when she arrived home from college vacations, because I knew that her plans to meet up with friends would only happen after she joined us for that dinner.  

She knows everyone on campus, from Father Bob, Notre Dame's new President, to Mae, who vacuums and dusts and shares plants and herbal remedies.  She coaches 5 year old boys' soccer, with the goal of each of them learning one skill.... just one skill.... and she coaxes and smiles and sets standards and cheers them on.  She's an amazing cook and an even more amazing mother and she's my little girl and I love her.

Today was a travel day for me, flying home on the least expensive day of the week.  It was also a travel day for her, 39 years ago, from the womb to the world.

I'm so glad she made the trip.