Monday, July 23, 2012

The Dawn, Every Day

My daughter plans a sunrise walk through the forest this morning. We wake at 5:00 AM and bring a flashlight, a breakfast, and sweatshirts. She wants to go alone--no friends, no sister, no father even. Just us. 

I don't know why yet, but she does.

I've never done anything like this before, especially with my own daughter.

I follow her through the dark woods, and we watch as the light begins its slow creep inside. Eventually, we have enough light to see the field. 

She wants to walk and talk about her life--all her fears of growing up and all her joys. She needs to talk about Penn State and then the shooting in Colorado.

Mostly, she wants to see the sunrise and eat breakfast at dawn with her mom.

I think I will remember this for my whole life, this dawn.

It's so hopeful and new; I can't believe it happens like this every single day of my life. There's a dawn out there, and today I felt it with my hand holding hers.

(Permission granted from her to write about this.) 

Have you gone in search of the sunrise?


Roberta Beach said...

The two of you have a rich relationship. Sounds like she has some weighty concerns on her mind to share; how appropriate to start in the dark where who knows what may lurk and listen/talk through a sunrise of promise!

Pepe B said...

To have a daughter like her, to have a mum like you!