Empty Nest- The Poem

Empty Nest

It isn't Empty Nest Syndrome

It isn't tears on somewhat sunken cheek bones or looking in the mirror to see a tired stranger

It isn't holding my breath when she shakes hands with Principal and grabs diploma with other and I can't hear for the roaring in my ears

The pride chanting in my head

The love bursting my veins

The hollow hole growing in my solo soul

She says every time I cry I owe her $5

I am already poor

She is my wealth

I am the single mother of a special needs daughter

I have walked away from everything and everyone else in this world

To run to her

I have sat vigil in cold hospital rooms

Stroking her face

Side swiping stray hairs

Caressing her tiny hand

I have slept in the curve of her feet at the bottom of her hospital bed

I have brought her home after 39 surgeries and fought with myself not to hold her hostage in the safety of our home

I have watched her fight to walk 

To walk on

To walk away

I have hung on to let her go

And here we are

High school over

Success heaped on success

Smile painted on my thinning lips like a too bright lipstick

My hand aches for her little girl fingers to wrap around mine

But I see my hands now

Veins exposed

Wrinkles forming

Nails ignored

Unadorned left ring finger

I have not been His Wife

I have only been Her Mom

Open palm to fist and Palm again

I cannot question 

I try to accept

Fly little bird

Mama's nest sits empty 

It's the Little Things

It is the Little Things on a journey.
The nurse who gives me $1.25 for the vending machine because I am a "good mama who needs chocolate".
It is the janitorial staff member who sings to your daughter every morning... Because he loves to see That Smile.
The amount of kindness a surgeon musters to dance a jig to relieve her pain cannot be underestimated... All 6'4" of stern manliness a-jumble at her bedside.
Thirteen years and thirty-nine surgeries. Amazingly, despite the pain and beyond the tears, the multitude of kindnesses shown us are what makes my heart flutter.
And... There was always Emma. Emma first met us when Madi was four. She was an LPN and Madi was a toddler who had already Had Enough. I was an exhausted single mom. IV meds were the worst. No one seemed very sympathetic when my daughter screamed in pain. They shrugged off her tears and smirked a bit at all The Drama. Not Emma. She believed Madi and sought a solution. She brought in a stock of hand warmers for Madi's bedside stand. Just a heat pack... Such relief.  Emma began "The Book of Madi" for the nurses station and insisted evey nurse treating her look it over. Meds were to be pumped on "turtle speed" and heat packs applied. Madi's baby blanket should always cover her IV sight--- she didn't like to see it. Her trusted Ellie the Elephant must always prop her arm for comfort.
Simple tasks brought about by a woman whose kindness and compassion amaze me to this day.
When Madi was nine she was finally correctly diagnosed. Her rare condition included restricted blood vessels that were very thin. Meds administered through an IV felt like ice water roaring through her system. The Doctor told us that this pain was, indeed, "unbearable". Thank you, Emma, for believing my little spit fire when no one else would!
Today, Emma is an amazing nurse. Madi is a high school graduate. They are best of friends, sharing life via snap chat and meeting for lunch or dinner when we return to Children's  Hospital... 7 hours away.
Madi has chosen to attend college close to her hospital. I am anxious and worried, but will certainly sleep better knowing her favorite nurse will always be on duty and on the lookout for my kiddo.
A lunch out, an extra hug... And certainly, a heat pack if it is needed.
Thanks, Emma. Your kindness makes this world such a better place!!!!