A Mother's Musings

by, Merikat





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I thought I heard you cry out in your sleep. Now I stand in the doorway to your bedroom and watch you. When you were little, I could soothe away any nightmare you suffered, but not any longer. Not now. Now, I am afraid to wake you, so I just stand and watch.

When you were a baby, you'd cry sometimes in your sleep. Your face would clench up and your little fists would thrash around. Tonight, I still see that baby when I look at you. I suppose I always will see her. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your forehead is beaded with perspiration. What demon are you fighting with such intensity? What nightmare images are running through your mind? I don't know and I probably never will. If I woke you and asked, you'd just lie to me. For my own protection, I understand, but still a lie.

Where did my baby go? And when? It seems only yesterday that you were a toddler; this morning you went to kindergarten; now you are nearly grown. Yet, I still see the towheaded baby in you. I feel the deep need to protect her, to protect you. Oh, how I envy other mothers who only have to worry about unwanted pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases, broken hearts and failing grades! I have to worry about all that and the things that go bump in the night to boot! I know you feel smothered and think I overprotect you. All daughters feel that way, sweetie. All mothers want to wrap their darling baby girls in cotton batting to keep them safe from all the bumps and bruises that life will persist in dishing out. And you, my sleeping angel, have to face not only the bumps and bruises but also the fangs and talons. There is not a thing in the living world I can do to protect you and it drives me insane.

Well, we have survived this nightmare. Your face clears and your fists unclench. I can see your whole body relax into a peaceful sleep. Oh, my baby, you are still so young, so vulnerable. Before I return to my own bed, I quickly smooth the damp hair back from your forehead and brush my lips against your cheek. You stir but don't waken. My baby. The Slayer.

******THE END******


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