Here is what I saw when I walked into Alyssa's dorm room for the last time of her freshman year:
My first thought was, "hey, she makes her bed!" My second thought was, "WOW! She really did like that rag quilt I made her last summer." And my final thought was, "I'm so glad I surprised her with the gift of the teddy bear and pillow case on Valentines Day - I think she liked the gifts." It made me appreciate that no matter how far away from home she is - she still treasures the small touches that I've made a part of her life for so many years. As a mother, this warmed my heart.
And now... tonight she is home. Her freshman year is complete - she survived, she thrived, and she passed her classes -what more can a mother ask for? She did it on her own with her own determination and self reliance, and I am so very proud of her! Can you hear my heart sing? Can you see me smile? Because that is what I am doing - singing and smiling to the point of wanting to break out in song and dance (I'll wait until everyone goes to bed before I start my happy dance... but, believe me... it's on the agenda before this night is through!). But right now, at this moment in time, I am just enjoying having her home. Talk to me in three months, and I may be singing a different tune, but for now, I'm singing songs of celebration and joy.
After she went to bed tonight (*sigh* all is well in my world knowing that she is tucked in snug under my roof), I wrote on our white board for her to see in the morning:
In the grand scheme of things, it may not be much at all. But in the tradition of our home, it is a really big deal to have the entire white board dedicated to a personal message. I just hope she knows how much it means to all of us to have her home, because I, for one, will go to sleep for the first time in months with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.
I love her... unconditionally, and with every fiber of my being. I'm so happy to say that this mother-love is one of the never-ending constants in my life. And to be completely honest, I find that comforting... it's always there, it never changes, and it is forever a part of who I am.