don’t worry, mom

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don’t worry, mom.

she says it enough lately that i’m starting to wonder that perhaps i’m more anxious than i know.

mazzy turned 14 last week.

it’s been less like a blink and more like a night of sleep.  time passes unaware, but it happened.  you were just out of time in a way.

mazzy has always been a little timeless.

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don’t worry, mom.

i remember the daily work of getting mazzy to where she needed to be.  to read words, to walk in a walker, to go to therapy.

mazzy made me a mother.

she rewired my brain.

she made me a specific kind of person that knows nothing.  that can predict nothing.  one that steps forward without a path.

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when mazzy was dedicated at our church, my friend, rebecca prayed this:

i see you as a flower that stays closed for a long time.  and when you bloom it will happen so slowly, but you will be the most beautiful flower.

it struck me as she prayed it.

i’ve held on to it for years.

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that prayer has proven true.

and the first petals are pulling away now.

i need to hide my face.

i need to take off my shoes.

look away from me lord, for i am a sinful man.

she is the most beautiful.

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i feel like i’m meeting mazzy for the first time now that she is 14.

and i’m not worried, mazzy.

i’m not worried at all.



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