Letters to Eliana

(entered in this contest...)

Oh, my sunshine.

You worked alongside me in the kitchen tonight. When you heard the refrigerator open, you marched into the room, patted your chest and toddled to the pantry, pointing to your sweet apron. You stood still as I wrapped it around you, then dutifully turned so that I could tie the strings.

I found my movements slowing as we worked together, for a little girl was right on my heels whenever I turned. I lifted you up to the counter to press the processor buttons, and we smiled at each other while the food spun magically.

I bent low and handed you the dinner plates, one at a time, then followed you to the table where you made a grunting sound and barely raised the plate to your chest. “Oh, thank you!” I exclaimed, taking it and setting it on the table even as you reached for the next one. It took longer, but oh, your smile was vast.

You methodically emptied your tupperware cupboard, which, in our tiny kitchen, happens to be directly underneath the only counter space I have for food preparation. There were several near misses as I hopped over a bowl on my way to the stove, but again, I slowed my movements and took a moment to laugh with you at my silliness.

Whenever I opened the refrigerator, a tousled blonde poked in next to me, always reaching for the salad dressing. Usually I shut the door quickly to avoid a mess, but tonight I lingered as you pointed to different items and made questioning sounds in your gibberish. You chose two yogurt containers to play with, and even moved aside obligingly as I swung the door closed.

Our movements became a dance. Mama moving slowly, smilingly. Eliana moving adoringly, wonderingly. Countless times, I raised you to the countertop so your little eyes could take in the pile of shredded cheese, the bowl of chopped olives, the diced onions that were making Mama laugh through her tears. Instead of feeling as if you were in my way, I felt as if I was sharing something very special, with someone very special; and so I was. Instead of your feeling only frustrated curiosity and separation, you had a sense of accomplishment, and closeness.

I moved through the rest of the evening slowly, quietly. Serving others at the table with deliberate care, not rushing so that everyone was fed at the exact same moment. Clearing the table methodically, finding joy in the order of plates being stacked, food layered into containers, and the dishwater circling the drain, bits of food trapped in the bottom to be scrubbed away. And all while sharing the dance floor with my precious daughter.

The small skipped beats in my heart when I recognize a moment that has not been missed are like the clicks of a camera. I will never forget what you taught me tonight.

Thank you for helping me slow down, whatever your method. Thank you for seeing the magic of the food processor, the wonder of a refrigerator full of colorful food, the joy in a cupboard holding unbreakable containers. Thank you for dancing with me; for making me see the beauty in the simple tasks of motherhood. For patiently waiting for me to see you standing there, just begging to be by my side in life.

Life with Eliana. What a gift.

Love,
Mama