|Lauren Age 3|
"Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart."
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
is almost four
and I am not her mother.
I am her Nana so I see her differently.
I see her as perfection just standing there.
I watch as she stands poised waiting for instruction.
Her eyes are wide, her expression eager.
She is so adorable I want to cry.
I want to snatch her up and run away with her to
where her feelings will never be hurt,
somewhere where she can just be herself and
never, ever change.
Somewhere where she can't be
caught up in the expectations of others.
My heart hurts just thinking about it.
I know...the fears are all mine.
They are tangled
with memories of my childhood,
with my hurts and heartbreaks.
And I have to remind myself
she is not me.
She is full of
spit and vinegar.