Written by Kinslyn Coffey – Today I came home from the hospital with you my bundled pink, squishy-faced, blonde-fuzzed angel. Only yesterday did I realize that you were coming. So quick, so sudden did my stomach expand and ankles swell until you were ready for me to meet you. I never wanted you anywhere but in my arms nor anywhere out of my sight. But you began to cry of hunger. I set you in your bassinette and turned around for the bottle of formula on the table behind me.
I turned back around with an apple Juicy Juice box in my hand to your light brown curls bouncing around your face as you hopped past me like a bunny.
“My goodness,” I exclaimed. “Where did my baby go?”
“I’m still here, Mommy,” you giggled back.
Ding-a-ling-a-ling. I handed you the juice box and turned around to grab my phone.
“Tell Isa to have a good day for me before she leaves,” your daddy said through the earpiece.
“What? Where would she go?” I asked, confused.
“To school, of course!”
I turned around as you skipped out the front door, two waist-length braids bobbing against your Dora the Explorer backpack. “Bye, Mommy,” you shouted happily behind you.
I slowly sat down onto the blue couch. Just an hour ago it was deep cyan, unblemished, unused; but now it looks faded, marked with grotesque stains, ragged and aged.
“Where is the time going?” I asked myself. The door suddenly opened. “Oh good, you’re back,” I said with relief. I turned and watched you rush past, your heavily-layered hair straightened, bright pink bangs covering one eye.
“I will never trust a boy again,” you cried as you ran up the stairs, black eyeliner streaming down your reddened cheeks.
I ran after you and into your room. Cardboard boxes, bright green Rubbermaid containers, periwinkle suitcases. Posters taken down, CDs off shelves, bed stripped of black jersey sheets.
“I’m going to miss you!” you ran to me, throwing your arms around me in a hug.
“Where are you going?” I asked, shaking. “You just got here,” I thought.
“I’m moving into my dorm at UNCA today, Mom, remember?”
Mom—not Mommy. And college so soon? Where did my baby go? “Well, let me give you this,” I said as I bent down for your pastel pink knitted baby blanket on the floor.
I arose again to an eight-month pregnant woman standing before me.
“Thanks, Mom,” you said, happily taking the blanket. “I didn’t think you still had it. It’s still like new!”
I smiled and watched you ease yourself into the white sitting chair. Tears formed in my eyes.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” you asked, concerned.
“Time sure goes fast,” I replied. “I should have never taken my eyes off of you.”
You laughed. “Oh, Mom, you sound like Mamaw!”
Kinslyn Coffey is a junior at Mars Hill University where she majors in English with a focus in Creative Writing. Two of her writing pieces—a short story, “Moving On”, and a poem, “Crows in the Rain”—were published in Mars Hill University’s literary journal, Cadenza.
“Crows in the Rain” won first place in poetry during the unveiling of Cadenza’s 2016 issue. Coffey also interns at The Magnetic Theatre where she is learning about playwriting, and contributed a short play, “I Blink Strangely, Ignore Me”, at the theatre’s Magnetic Midnight in June 2016.
She plans to pursue a career of teaching English and creative writing, as well as writing plays and stories. When not writing, Coffey enjoys playing her guitar, spending time with friends, and observing artwork around Asheville.
