Dear Daughter

Day 1 — Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

For one voyage to begin, another voyage must come to an end, sort of.
I stopped being a wife
and became a mother instead.
Life spewed out of me: crying, choking, blinking, squealing.
The cord connecting us was cut, but we could never be separated, not really.

Feeding, cleaning, feeding, cleaning, the cycle went on and on
a never ending abyss of parenthood.

Thus started the voyage of happiness and misery, vanity and hurt.
The child grew.
Student. Adolescent.
Independent. Employment.

Her achievements taking her further from me
and look at us masochists, holding on when we should be letting go.
She doesn’t mean to but she hurts
I cling on, living vicariously, living double lives.
I imagine her walking down the road; assaulted, mugged or worse
I imagine her sleeping; broken doors, broken windows or worse
I imagine her in class; surrounded by hormones and testosterone
I imagine the worst for her and spend hours by my phone
for one call, one text, one beep, one notification.
She doesn’t mean to but she hurts
She is my double-edged sword
Yet I hold on for dear life, blood flowing down both my hands.

Book: The Bone Clocks, David Mitchell

2 thoughts on “Dear Daughter

  1. So much anger and consternation. Your verse shows your over control and filled with regret. Let go for every negative their is a positive. You fears are not hers. this is life-all that you portray as negative is her world to experience.


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