Woman’s Day

by Jessie Mabrey
You were a beautiful child. From the time you were four-years old watching The Cosby Show with me. I promised you that when you had your first menstrual cycle we would celebrate.

We talked often over the next seven years, planning what we would do, where we would go, and how much fun we would have celebrating your first step into womanhood. I wanted to create a lasting memory of an important milestone in your life. A memory you could pass to your own daughter one day.

A promise lost, a memory replaced with a nightmare reality. Our Woman’s Day, where was it spent? On a phone in the county jail, looking at each other through a plate glass window, you asked me, “Why?” I had no answer, only tears and sorrow for hurting my precious baby.

Fourteen years have passed and though we can touch each other now, it’s only allowed at the beginning and end of our visits. You’re a woman now and a mother. So many lasting memories are lost. I can’t it back, can I?

You want no more promises from me. I don’t blame you. I’m humbled by your forgiveness. You are a beautiful woman.

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