Once upon a time there was a tiny speck. No bigger than the eye of a sultana inside my body. I was unprepared for this growth. I loved travelling to Paris. I enjoyed time to myself and couldn't imagine life with a little person. And yet a little person had arrived, for there was the speck.
Five years later the speck is a pig-tailed, long-legged, cheeky, bright and intelligent Australian little girl. All the doctors worried over the speck. They had muttered the words, DOWNS and LEGS TOO SHORT and will never grow to NORMAL HEIGHT.
But doctors and women can be wrong.
I no longer travel to Paris every year. I cannot remember what it was like to have unbroken sleep, think only of myself. Those days which seemed so perfect at the time, now look like black-and-white Kansas as I twirl and whirl with Dorothy and Toto in a world of wonder and Oz. A quieter and richer world.
The speck grew into a very tall girl and I grew into a mother. A mother who last week saw her sunbeam shine her way into the first day of big school.
I remember the moment when I first saw the speck on the monitor. I had been so afraid, so unsure, so doubting of my capacity to love a child. So fearing of the loss of identity and ego that would come. And yet I sensed the speck had a soul, that there was meaning to that speck. Something passed between us. And as I stared at that tiny, formless insubstantial thing, I knew the speck was looking back at me.
Fly high my little sparrow. I have given you the keys. I love you, Daisy.
I hope you are all well. I am frantic editing Poets Cottage and attempting to prepare for our wedding. Tonight I have my bookclub meeting. My charming, whimsical, writer friend Amanda Holohan is moderating the trippy book 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' and so it should be a fun night. For all the Mums and Dads who watched with a lump in their throat as their little ones started school enjoy the moment. Bittersweet and beautiful, joyous and poignant. Three cheers for us and even louder cheers for our wonderful children. xx