I miss you. I miss feeling the muffled pound of your heartbeat. I miss tingling with the medley of emotions that you felt, that I felt, when I was in my water filled cradle… the intermingling of joy, fear, worry, hope… love. I miss the safety of you, surrounding every aspect of my being. We were one then. You nurtured me before even you knew I was there. And when you found out I was in you, you nurtured me more. You didn’t even know me yet, but you loved me.
When my cradle became too small, became cramped, I felt you gently squeeze me, coaxing me out of my warm cozy world. Then you pushed! You pushed me out of the only home I knew. I was so frightened. I didn’t know then that my new home in your arms would be so much better, because from there I could see your face beaming down at me like the morning sun. I miss your face.
I was here for two days… two beautiful days when I had you all to myself. You held me, fed me, cleaned me, and answered my cries. You held me close to you. I can still taste your sweet, comforting touch. You sang to me with your cottony voice. You loved me, like no one else. I was your first born.
Now I look at my four siblings with envy. They have so many experiences I never had. You held their hands when they were learning to walk. You picked them up and comforted them when they fell. You put band-aids on their bruises. You cooked them Sunday meals and Christmas dinners. You swung them on swings, took them into the water at the beach, carried them to see fireworks on Independence Day. You took them to Church every Sunday and taught them about God. You taught them to drive. You let them use your car. You gave them relationship advice. You taught them to love. If I knew how much I was going to miss I would not have left. Now they have you, and I don’t.
They get to give you gifts every Mothers’ day, Christmas and birthday. If I were there, Mother, I’d give you a gift every day. They get to kiss you and hug you. But from where I am, I long to touch your face, but I cannot. They don’t deserve you Mother. My siblings do not treat you the way I would. I would bring you flowers every day. I know you like flowers Mother. I would hug and kiss you every chance I get. I would tell you I love you a million times a day. I never even got the chance to tell you I love you.
You never tell my brothers and my little sister about me. They don’t know what by birthday is. They don’t know the color of my eyes. They don’t even know my name. Do you remember what you named me Mother, on the day I was born? Sometimes I wonder if you have forgotten all about me. But there are times, those rare moments… when you’re gardening, or holding one of your grandchildren… that I see it in your eyes. You remember me. You feel my presence. You still love me.
Mother I am sorry I left you so quickly, but the angel said it was time. It wasn’t your fault that I left. I heard you cry out when my body stiffened and I stopped suckling at your breast. I saw the anguish on your face. But it was too late. I couldn’t come back. My purpose on this earth was fulfilled. I came to teach you to love in a way you never before knew… and to be loved by you. I had two days. Those two days I will treasure for an eternity. I never really left you Mother. One day you will understand…
Your First Born