There are certain stories one revisits many times. The birth of a child may top the list. So, if I have written about this before, forgive me. It won't be the last time...
Margo was my long-awaited child. Divorced in 1990, I spent many long years wondering if I would ever find the right person to love and to marry. I wondered if I would ever have another child. Then, as these things often happen, I had just about given up hope when love found me. I was married November 13, 1999. On November 15th, 2000 Margo was born.
She was a stranger. You know those old baby cards where the caption reads, "I hear a little stranger has come to visit at your house?" Well, that was Margo. She didn't look like anyone I knew. Her sister was born pale and creamy with a hint of pink, a wisp of blonde hair at the back. There was no doubt where she had come from.
But Margo was a stunning surprise. She had black, black hair. A lot of it. And her skin had a dark tone, suffused with a dusky red. And her eyes...they were almost purple. Dark, dark violet like star sapphires. My long awaited child. Who was she?
I share this story today because there are so many moments in life when we catch a glimpse of our children and see within them what they are to become.Yesterday as the members of Cantate (of the Peabody Children's Chorus) assembled on the stage of the Jim Rouse Theater, I had a moment of panic. Where was she? I scanned the group from one side to the other.
And then she materialized. She had been there all along, but I didn't see her because she was so "grown." It was her first concert with the oldest group, her first to wear the full concert dress of Cantate, and she stepped into her place with such confidence that I almost didn't recognize her.
And so I sat. And stared. I listened to the beautiful music, watched my daughter sing and respond to the conductor, watched her enjoy the music and live completely in the moment. And I saw a glimpse of the adult Margo. There in front of me was Margo the young woman. And she was no stranger. In the way she looked, and sang, and carried herself, I saw her older sister, and her father. I even saw a little bit of me. But most of all I saw the beauty of the person she is becoming.
There is no way to fully explain that moment when you see your child emerging into adulthood. If you are a mother, you know. It is as profound as the moment of their birth.