Last November I bought Taylor Swift's latest album, yes; I like her music. There is a track that sounds like a lullaby and the lyrics are a message to her young self which choruses "Ooh darling, don't you ever grow up, just stay this little, it could be this simple". The song is in hindsight; wishing she knew how precious and fleeting her youth was and it encourages her to treasure simple things like the sound of the door opening when daddy gets home and to speak nicely to her mom because one day she will be quite old and will want more of her.
It warms and warns my heart because my doll-of-a-daughter has the sweet innocence of a youngster and the insightful maturity of an old soul. I was "wise beyond my years" as a child and with that comes a premature awareness of the ugly things in life. However, I don't want to cushion her from every blow because that would be a disservice. The song recites about a lack of scars at this blossoming age. With God's grace I have received virtual Mederma to cover scars amassed through my nearly three decades; I have seen more than I wish and want to shield her preciousness for as long as I can.
The job of a mom is strange in theory. As humans we nurture our young longer than any other mammals. We invest the totality of our protection into these blooming creatures only to send them off into a world we know is flawed and sometimes tragic. This picture is of her Kindergarten graduation. One stranger exclaimed to me,"I've caught fish bigger than that baby" when she was a a tiny preemie. Tatianna is now an energetic, reading, rock-climbing sage. She is only on loan. I will hum the tune of "Ooh darling don't you ever grow up until she is, well, grown-up.
