Dear daughter,

I had a dream last night, you were 10 again. I saw you as you were exactly then, and my heart rejoiced. I knew I was dreaming, but I relished the moment as I could experience the freshness of your face, the light in your eyes, the bounce in your step, the exuberant confident ways of your heart . . . and then I woke, to realize the reality of the day.

RELATED: Because One Day She Will Have To Walk Away

You see, you are married now, you have left home, you are no longer 10. And at times I see the world weighing down on you in your efforts to smile and your lethargy in your activities, pretending you are OK. I see the doubt and insecurity in your eyes as you try to make sense of it all, and I know you are wondering how did life speed along so quickly to bring you to where you are now. The what-ifs never leaving that contemplative mind of yours.

I know, I feel that way, too.

I see your reluctance to leave us when you come to visit, and I know you sometimes wish you could just go back to being 10 when everything was right in the world, life was carefree, and all we had to worry about was getting to school and netball on time. Whether we would have a cereal night for tea or splurge and have pancakes. How you would rise before everyone else on someone’s birthday, just to set the breakfast table and make a pancake feast to surprise them. Or how you would set up the entire lounge room as a classroom to play schools with your siblings, cousins, or toys. I know you miss these days.

I know, I miss them, too.

RELATED: The Echoes of a Mother’s Love Remain After the Kids Are Grown

How I wish I could go back to those days and have you back in my complete care and arms where I could protect and love you as fiercely as I did then, knowing as long as I could just hold you and tell you it would all be OK and that the world would be a safe and fun place to grow into, then just maybe it would be. But it isn’t always, is it?

Life is hard, sometimes it hurts, and we are always moving forward into new phases and times because none of us can hold back the tide as much as we wish we could. 

I know, I wish I could, too.

Then I see you as the woman you have becomein your element, flourishing as God always intended you to, separate from us in the physical, yet as close as ever in heart, spirit, and mind. Your God-given skills, talents, and abilities have always been there, somewhat immature and clumsy in your youth, yet somehow beautiful, amazing, and awe-inspiring now in your adulthood. I always knew He had his hand on you, especially when you would talk of all your aspirations and what you intended to do when you were a grown-up. So many dreams and hopestoo many to imagine at timesand my mind would boggle as I’d ask God just what did He have in store for you? My dreams, yours, or His? 

RELATED: Seeing My Grown Daughter Happy Fills My Heart With Joy

Then here you are, and guess what–it is a combination of all four! I see all of us—you, me, your blessed dad, and our God, all rolled up into what makes you, you—the precious daughter we could never have dreamed into one perfect human being.

And though in locality you are no longer here permanently, you are always right here in our hearts, our memories, and our home. You fit right here. You always have, and you always will. No matter where your life takes you, what you choose to do to fill your days, and who you choose to do them with, we will always be with you and one day in Heaven, we will never ever be separated by time, locality or life ever, ever again, when we see His face and enjoy eternity together where all our dreams will be made perfectly complete.

I know, I wish for those days too.

Debra Wilson

Debra is a farmer's wife with three children, living in rural Australia. She has always had a love for writing, reading, sharing, and supporting others with life's stories. She currently coordinates a local support group for women and worked as a chaplain in schools during her children's school years. Today she and her husband enjoy managing their farm together and being involved in their kids' and extended families' lives, attempting to live a God-honouring life.