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18

My sweet, beautiful, smart, baby girl is, at 18 years old today, officially not a baby anymore…

My newborn daughter with my mom

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE

It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened sooner.  Later.
Nearer.  Farther.
It happened not to you.
You survived because you were the first.
You survived because you were the last.
Because you were alone.
Because of people.
Because you turned left.  Because you turned right.
Because rain fell.  Because a shadow fell.
Because sunny weather prevailed.
Luckily there was a wood.
Luckily there were no trees.
Luckily there was a rail, a hook, a beam, a brake,
a frame, a bend, a millimeter, a second.
Luckily a straw was floating on the surface.
Thanks to, because, and yet, in spite of.
What would have happened had not a hand, a foot,
by a step, a hairsbreadth
by sheer coincidence.
So you’re here?  Straight form a moment still ajar?
The net had one eyehole, and you got through it?
There’s no end to me wonder, my silence.
Listen
how fast your heart beats in me.
~ Wislawa Szymborska

(Although, really, she will always be my baby.)
xoxo,
M
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4 Comments on “18

  1. Happy birthday to your daughter!

    I love all the periods she used. My kids used to sign their cards with their last names. As if I wouldn’t know who they were!

    The poem is beautiful, too. And so, so true.

    1. Little ones, when they first begin writing, are just the cutest, aren’t they?! They try so hard to figure it out!

      The poem is one of my all time favorites. I cut it our of a magazine over a decade ago and carry it with me as a reminder of the grace we are surrounded by each day 🙂

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