I was running late as usual.
Trying to meet up with a friend that I hadn't seen in a couple of months.
We planned to have dessert and chat about life.
We both had lots to catch up on.
My man had made dinner.
The kids were setting the table.
I ran through the kitchen looking for my keys.
Found them in the windowsill of all places.
Gave the kids the quick "be good for daddy" lecture and was off.
I grabbed the doorknob to leave.
And then I heard her yell.
"Mama, you come back?"
Before I could turn around, I heard her running down the hall to me.
Again.
"Mama, you go bye bye. You come back?"
My hand dropped from the doorknob.
I turned around and just stared at her.
Again.
"Mama, you come back?"
She's been home with me for over three years.
She comes to me for her needs.
She comes to me for all of her her wants.
She comes to me because I am there.
She trusts that I am there for her.
I thought that we had worked though this.
Yet in that minute of those three repeated questions.
I was reminded there is a part of her heart.
That doubts.
That fears.
That wonders.
Is mama coming back?
I grabbed her.
Held her.
Kissed her.
Trying to hide the tears that I knew were moments away from running down my cheeks.
My throat tight.
"Yes, mama will come back."
I kissed her again.
Reassured her again.
And then went out to the car and cried.
I texted my man telling him not to tuck her in until I got home.
No matter how late.
My friend and I got caught up on just about everything that's happened in the last four months.
We decided that we need to get out more often.
There was just too much to talk about to try and fit in in just a few hours out.
I tried to not constantly check my phone for the time.
I finally pulled up in the driveway, a good two hours past her bedtime.
I walked in the house.
And I heard her feet running down the hall.
And I heard her scream.
Again, "Mama, you come back!"
Only this time it wasn't a question.
It was the announcement of sheer joy that Mama came back.
