Mylsch


Six years ago today was also a Saturday. I remember it very vividly. I remember what it felt like to give birth to another human being. I remember what it felt like to hold her and smile at her tiny fingers and toes. I remember the lump in my throat, but maybe that’s because it never left.

Even though I love words and try my best to put my feelings into them, I can not do it with Gracie.

Words are a one-size-fits all costume, not fitted clothing.

“Love” is too general to describe what it feels like to make and give birth to a miniature you. It’s too general of a word to express to her what she means to me. Perhaps I’ll never to be able to explain how it feels to love a daughter who is both your own and someone else’s. Or perhaps I could, if I created my own word, from my favorite letters, one that hasn’t been overused and misused yet.

So Gracie, I mylsch you. It means that there is no circumstance that could make me stop caring this much about you. It doesn’t have strings attached – no matter what you feel for me, it won’t change how I feel for you. It is an overwhelming emotion – in my subconscious, you are always there, sitting in a quaint little chair, occupying my thoughts. There is no past-tense for this word – the feeling is eternal.

I hope she feels it too, from all of her parents. She is one very special girl – to a lot of people. There is a lot of love for her, and a whole lot of mylsch, too.

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