I watch you mingle with dignitaries.
I watch you work towards your goals.
In between it all, you’re a wife and a mother.
My first born, and you’re only twenty-four.
Oh, my sweet beba how impressed I am,
of the life you created and have.
A part of your godfather rubbed off on you.
And even a small part of your absentee dad.
I recall your birth, on that hot July eve,
as your godfather held my hand.
You came into the world,
an opera singer with beautiful soft curly hair.
My precious Christina, my beba, my girl.
You worked hard in school growing up.
Eight languages you speak fluently,
and traveled the world with that old tiny stuffed cat.
Your godfather was an amazing man.
He placed the world in your hands.
We gave you every opportunity you needed.
And you made us proud with your every decision.
I watched you grow to be an amazing young woman.
One who knows what she wants.
You put family first and work on your dreams,
you know how to prioritize and live life.
My sweet young Christina, I recall your early years.
Piano lessons and violin, ballet and cheerleading,
dancing on the tables at the church dance,
Horseback riding, sweet sixteen at the Plaza.
Father, daughter dance with your godfather,
And the nights he stood by your bedroom door,
ordering the monsters from under your bed to go.
Your belly laughs, your boo boo tears. Your hugs.
How proud I am of you my child,
I regret nothing I did.
Whatever it took to bring you this happiness,
was worth all of your father’s hate for me and my sin.
Don’t worry about him my child.
You gave him the chance he needed.
But he’s the one who screwed it up again.
With his arrogance, demands and deceit.
You opened the door and he wanted more.
Something you weren’t ready to give.
And he proved to be what I hid from you.
And now you know the truth.
Regardless my dear, your godfather was near.
And he held you as his own.
The love he had for you was strong.
He proved his unconditional love.
Let your father be, he'll never change.
But keep the door open anyway.
He may grow brains someday...
Jokingly I say, but I know you are hurt.
If I could change his ways, I would.
But he’s not man enough to do the right thing.
Nothing was asked of him. but his love and presence.
But he was short in that department, as you can see.
You’ve done so well. Be proud of yourself.
You are loved and needed as well.
Adriano was your godfather and he loved you so much.
You became his girl the moment he held you in his arms.
With tears in his eyes he made a vow,
to protect and love you as his own.
When your little hand touched his chin,
that was when you grabbed a hold of his heart.
Bravo, on everything you do.
You're my beba...a Baronessa, too!
Mommy loves you!!!
Copyright (c) 2009
Edwin
Brooke
Be always safe,
Karen
What a lovely tribute to your daughter. She and her grandfather must be very special people.
Mary