from Brooke 11:01pm via SMS
The sound of one more pair of hands clapping is not heard, but they definitely applauded for our little Mariana bean.
This phone of mines has a couple of stuck buttons and plenty of scratches on its exterior, so I wouldn't say I am quite attached to it. Still, I am somewhat protective of it, watching for it to make a noise, to tell me to check it because I have a message like this or a phone call.
My window into Mariana's life opens and closes. Welcome breezes drift in, and Mariana is refreshed in my imagination. Not every aspect of her growth and development can be included in such a small, pixelated video or dark picture, but the attempt is so valuable to me.
I forget that Mariana has only pictures of me and so I connected my webcam and opened the window for Mariana from my end.
Mostly I heard her say "Mama? .... Mama?"
Brooke said she would smile.
I could only hear her and see my own face, grey in a small box in the corner of my screen, imagining what she must be thinking. Though Brooke is holding her, neither of us can yet imagine what she thinks.
Though I'm told that Mariana is developing modes of communication, so perhaps soon her mother and I will hear what's on our bean's mind.
This is a show for her. I make faces and I hear her respond as I imagine her pointing to the screen.
I can only hear her. I cannot see her.
Bittersweet is the knowledge that she is growing without me around. I can settle for a myriad of truths about it: she is healthy and growing, she is brilliant and curious....
Perhaps among the most difficult truths is that she is able to grow without me.
Another, that I am far away and finishing school.
While Mariana points and asks "Mama?" there are still others in her life who question the path I have chosen, so far away from Mariana.
Admittedly, it doesn't make much sense to be far away from such a wonderful little girl, especially when she is so curious to know why her father is talking to her from the computer screen instead of playing with her everyday.
Time with Mariana is for me a luxury. Time for me at University slows and quickens without me noticing these changes. 'How do we make parenting work from so far away?' is a question Brooke and I have asked ourselves perhaps more than other, more discouraging inquirers would. Time, again becomes the answer to the very questions posed because of it.
Q: What do I make of the time I spend away from my daughter?
A: In time I will know. In time... in time....
While you ask, I am formulating my answer, one day at a time.
One tallied day at a time, I attempt to make the best of this distance.
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