Friday, November 16, 2012


As I sit here, with a newborn baby, my oldest is preparing to leave the nest. Tomorrow morning she is packing up her car and moving three hours away for a job, her own space, and yes, a boy.
I am so very, very proud of her for getting the skills she wanted and pursuing a career that really is just. so. her. But I am so sad she is leaving.

When she was little we called her Meggie Boomer because every time she fell down, we all said "BOOM!". By "we all" I mean me, my siblings (three of 'em) and my parents. She grew up in a household where she was the loved and adored granddaughter and niece for her first four years. As she grew, and fell less often, we would say she was blooming, and from that she got the nickname "Bloomer", which has stuck ever since. I think it is such an appropriate nickname for this girl, now a young woman who has bloomed so much. I know it is only right that she outgrow the crank and angst of her teens, but she has blossomed into a bright, lovely young woman. She graduated cosmetology school in August and set about finding a job, and has recently secured one - in far off Findlay. Our area just really doesn't have a whole lot to offer right now, and she is thankful for the job.

I just can't believe she won't be here for our nightly powwows, she and her sisters all piled into my bed or on the couch together, quoting movies and singing silly songs. Giving make up and hair tips or comparing false eyelashes (they are a really girly bunch). I can't believe she'll be three hours away, living with some girl I have never met. I hope they like one another.

I can't fathom that I won't find her oatmeal dishes or diet coke cans on the table beside "her seat" every morning because despite yells and threats, she never puts her dishes in the dishwasher or throws her cans away.

The first time she left home, to move to college, she was only 45 minutes away and it was too soon for both of us. She was home a semester later, though still attending classes. Dorm life just wasn't for her...or me. I only called her three times a day for six weeks. After that I was able to cut back to just once or twice a day.

This girl has had my heart since long before I laid eyes on her. She makes me SO MAD, but I love her so much. She was the first person I ever really fell head over heels for. I have since done that time and again, but she was the first. My first baby. My first reason to not be selfish. My reason to get an education. My reason to exist for a while there. We made it through some rough stuff together, and I am so thankful for her. She have me a different life than the one I thought I would have. I thought I would move out with my sister into an apartment we would decorate with posters and fun pillows. Live there until we each met the man of our dreams and got married in lovely, somewhat splashy weddings. Instead, because of her, I met a single dad who knew when his daughter's pants needed sewing and did it. I met the man who has kept my heart beating on so many occassions and still, eightteen years later makes it race.

Because of her  I had to grow up pretty fast, but I loved every minute of her, every second of her and have never regretted any of it. I hope she now gets to go do the things I never got to, and loves every second, and then gets to do the things I love the most in the world, becoming a wife and a mama. Good luck, my beautiful girl. You are always in my prayers, and we will always be your safe place to land should you ever need it. I love you.