Aw, I'm a parent!

19. How did you feel the moment you became a parent?

Well, fact of the matter is, I'm not a parent yet so I can't really explain how I felt when I had the children I don't have. Make sense? Good. 

There are instances in my life where I feel like a parent though, so maybe I can relate a little. I've taken care of my sister while we've grown up (or told myself that) so that's kind of like she was my large-ish child. I've taken care of hundreds of kids with my different jobs and sometimes I feel like I'm like their parent. And of course there was always...

My sunflower. 

I take it all back. I am a parent. And I've created something beautiful, just like the rest of you. 

There once was a time where I got a seed. This was a wonderful little seed that when you held it in your hand, you felt like you were holding a tiny miracle that was sent to you from God himself. Just looking at it made you ponder about the meaning of life and do big sighs and look into the sunset. That was my seed, and I loved it dearly.

Once I got up the courage to part with the seed-form of my miracle I planted it in a beautiful and extravagant home. This home was made of only the finest materials, a delicately cut plastic green Sprite bottle, made it China, that made it possible for my little seedy to drink from the plentiful water whenever it felt keen in doing so. 

My precious seedy was planted and given of course, only the best care a mother could provide. Bountiful sunlight washed over it each day and fresh water was added as needed. After a few days I found myself beginning to worry about my seedy. Was it growing? Did it need something more? Was I a good mom or was I insufficient for my seedy's needs? Why wasn't it's little baby seed head poking out of the dirt yet? 

To my surprise and relief, seedy turned out to be fine. I chuckled. I guess all moms experience this worry though. She suddenly reached out of the dirt and began to grow rapidly before my eyes. I was so proud. Tears began to form in my eyes and I thought, what was the purpose of my life before my little baby seedy was in it? I did not know, nor did I care.

Each day I checked on her to make sure she had everything that was needed. I made sure she was watered, fed, and properly clothed with dark, rich, soil. She got plenty of exercise and fresh air, which most youngsters need at that age. When she became bigger though, she copped a little attitude and needed a larger room. Oh silly seedy, you're just like your mother. She was always complaining about how her room was too small and all the other seedies in the world had way more room than she. I cut up a juice carton and she got what she'd always wanted, more space to play and to be her  beautiful seedy self. 

As she grew older, times weren't as happy like they used to be. She was too big for me to hold in my hand anymore and she was always reaching out of her home to see what else was out there in the big, vast world; it just wasn't enough for her to see my smiling face looking down at her each day anymore. I continued to care for her even though I could tell my help wasn't always welcome. 

I soon realized didn't have to check on her each day or water her as much. She was growing on her own and I know what she wanted. Space. She wanted more space...away from me? Away from her family and her home? I wasn't sure. My mind wandered and feared the worst.

Just as she was growing into her seedy-woman self I realized she really didn't need me much at all; all my worst fears were coming true. I forced myself to quit checking on her and unfortunately, things took a terrible turn. 

I fell ill with a bout of sicky-icky-ness. I was unable to care for her for quite a long time but I assumed she'd be fine without me. After all, it'd been a long time since she needed me anyway...

A week or so passed when I finally got the strength to open the door to my backyard and check on my sweet, sweet, seedy. But when I saw her, my world went dark. I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. I shrunk to my knees to witness the horror... My week of neglect (which in sunflower time was 14 years) had killed her. Her once green and strong stem was gray and withered. Her leaves were crumpled and lay sprawled on the floor of her room. 

Seedy. Was. Dead.