A blog by Lori Lyons

Monday, July 11, 2011

Kiss me goodbye

How many times have I done it?

How many times have I walked out of my room, out of my closet and past the sleeping -- snoring -- child all tangled up in her pink sheets, and gone down the stairs and out the door without stopping to give her one more kiss goodbye?

Because I was running late?

Because I was aggravated at my lack of wardrobe choices that day?

Because I was cranky?

Because I simply did not want to wake her up?

I watched a mother on TV last night, one who had lost her child for 18 years because of the whims of a madman. For 18 years she lived with not knowing where her little girl was.  Not knowing if she was hurt or even alive. Not knowing that she would not see her daughter again until she was a 20-something mother herself. 

And for 18 years she had lived knowing that, on that last fateful morning, she had neglected to kiss her litle girl goodbye because she was in a hurry.

How many times?

Not that many actually. But too many. Even if it was only once.

I shall not any more.

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