Tuesday, June 25, 2013


As Charlotte and I sat in the early evening sun, last Sunday, on a picnic table, outside the root beer stand, the song "Turn, Turn, Turn" started playing, as I was helping her finish off the last sip of her first root beer float, something happened and I started to cry. Maybe it was the exhaustion in Charlotte's eyes from a busy day at the beach, maybe it was the layers of dirt on her, telling the story of her day,like sediment tells the history of our world, sunscreen, sand, ice cream, strawberries and root beer, or maybe it was her pink skin from her day of playing in the sand and surf on the shore of Lake Michigan, but I started crying out of pure happiness and thankfulness.

When this journey began, I never thought a day like I had Sunday would be possible, but there I was tending to the daughter I was afraid I wouldn't bond to, helping her drink her root beer and sharing  my chocolate/vanilla twist cone with her, smiling and enjoying, simply other's company after a great day at the beach.

In that moment as I dabbed my eyes with a napkin, while Charlotte tried to lick the last of her root beer off of her straw, and my twisty cone melted on the table where I had set it, I wasn't a stroke survivor, I wasn't Old Liz or Liz 2.0, I was just Charlotte's mom, which is all I ever wanted to be.