Can i keep you?

I say things, often, knowing that the statement and even the other persons conversationaly expected (i.e. scripted) reply are both lies.

"Can i keep you?" i ask her, smiling, as I help her to step into her pajama bottoms.
Left foot.
"Yes!" she laughs.
Right foot.
"Can i keep you FOREVER?!"
"Yes! you can!"
"Forever and ever?!" As i pull her pajama top over her head.
"Please, Mommy! Keep me forever and ever!" she squeels with glee.

Lies.

This beautiful child. The child that i begged and pleaded and worked to concieve. This child that I nurtured in the womb and birthed. This child that i have devoted my life to raising. She isn't mine. Not to keep.

She has a piece of me. I gave her a tiny fragment of myself, a tiny fragment of her father, and Look what SHE has done with those fragments! She grew into a precious baby and on into a beautiful little girl with her own wants and wishes and a completely personal view on the world. Her life isn't mine to keep no matter how often she pledges that i can.

She owns every piece of herself. Every experience she has. Every part of her body. Every feeling and emotion she can muster. They are Hers.

She is Magdalena.

The daughter of my heart. The daughter of my womb. But She is not MINE.

And I Worship her.