{the.wednesday.whistle}

dear Mikki and Katie…

at the end of my dreams or nightmares i always hear the same laughter echoing, rattling in my inner ear…it vibrates down into my rib cage and wakes me from my slippery slumber. always…whether i am a carefree flying spirit soaring high above the clouds, or desperately clinging to the side of the granite slabs that lead out to the Rockland Lighthouse during a hurricane, with waves beating against my back, threatening to swallow me into the ocean forever. the laughing has occurred in every dream for 6 years.

i dream.

a lot.

this laughter is my miracle. it breathes sweet reality into my nightly, dark abyss.

i remember when i first heard you laugh, Mikki. you were bouncing on your daddy’s lap, and you let out a surprisingly deep, but tiny giggle. that moment… that laughter, exploded through my body and sent water welling up into my tear ducts and flowing down my cheeks. the perfect moment of parenthood for me, was not he sound of you crying on the day you were born, but the sound of you laughing for the very first time. and for some reason {i don’t dare ask for fear it will disappear forever} it has been in every subconscious, nocturnal exploration since.

life is full of miracles. sometimes, they are big and obvious, like finding your true and complete love, or the birth of your child, or the fact that you got a B+ on that Biology test you TOTALLY didn’t study for. sometimes, they are fragile and fleeting…like the whisper of warm wheat in an August field, or licking the last of the brownie batter off your grandmother’s wooden spoon, or even a first laugh that is only first once and only once. miracles are everywhere. they are in your fingers, at your side, in your backpack that you take to school….

they are….you. you are a miracle, girls.

all my love darlings,

mommy

ps. daily mantra: “i am the miracle.” {buddha}