One day, when you’re older, I’ll remind you of that precious time when sweet tears rolled down your devastated face at the mere thought that one of “your girls”, Shelby, didn’t see you as her “bestest friend” too. I’ll show you these captured moments and affirm that she did in fact cherish you, VERY much so, like a second mama- from the moment you graced my womb, no less. She just, well, she more so prefers now that her love be spilled from a safe distance (we can discuss your short-lived probing and riding phases another time) or at least until you’re motionless and asleep- then she’s always there, always, your faithful “bestest friend”, our Shelby girl.
The same girl who sat in my very full, very pregnant lap while I heaved and worried profusely for 9 months straight. The sweet pup who laid up all those sleepless nights with me (huffing, no less) as I battled and conquered so many fears attempting to seed and grow in my heart, while we, as a family, embarked on our new journey with you and Epilepsy. A compassionate girl who, three times over, has always sought out and loyally found her mama, tucked away, alone, where she then stayed, curled up into my own ball for sometimes days- allowing my sobbing tears of loss to drench her coat as they steadily fell, slowly making a way for peace and healing.
This girl of ours, B, she isn’t much of a talker, so don’t take her lack of a reply as any indication of her heart for you. For you see, our Shelby, well she’s mastered a silent kind of love, a listening love, a loyal love. She’s changed us, mended us, and protected ALL of us time and time again without one single word… and that, well, it just speaks volumes, my love, volumes.
Sometimes, B, love screams out of the smallest gesture of just being there, silently, while we, her family, venture through the hills and the valleys of this life. A faithful sailor when the sea is calm, fierce, or three… That’s our girl: always there, always loving, no matter the season. Loyally present.
your Mama- her other bestest friend