birthday gift

Today I turn 35 years old.
I've already received the best gift and it's only 8 a.m.
It came from my daughter Sophie who is 12 years old.
She attends a charter school in downtown SLC.  It is about 20 miles from our house.
This year she will be riding TRAX into the city for school.

Sophie boarding the train.

My gift was watching her walk tall onto the platform to board the train.
Like a tiny dancer who knows her routine, she didn't miss a step.
"You can just drop me off here, Mom."
I don't question her.
"Ok, here ya go honey," I park my mini-van at the gate.
"Thanks Mom. I'll just go stand over by those ladies, they look nice."
She pops her headphones in and sails away on long strides and brown leather boots.
I know I'm supposed to drive away, but I can't.
Not because I'm worried, but because I just love seeing her standing there.
It's as if I'm watching my heart outside my body in a bright pink tank top.
I try to hide my van behind the other parked cars.

She sends me a text,
"Go away.  Love you."

So I obey, and I pull away with a smile that tingles the top of my head.
I smile because she is experiencing the freedom of being in the world on her own.
I relish this as I do my favorite song on the radio.
I feel it every time I walk through an airport with my suitcase rolling behind me.
My senses are activated because I am just a little bit scared.
I am away from home, and I am aware of my insignificance.
I see mothers kissing their babies in delicate blankets.
I see long faces of men in unfriendly bars sipping drinks and wishing they had someone to talk to.
I see our human tapestry sewn together in every color.  I read each face I pass,and each one adds to the richness. I know I am only one small square.  One small square is enough.

"My Square"
birthday gift from my husband