The Dedication

Cross posted from my adoption blog -

Yesterday, my editor emailed me to ask for the front cover matter for my March 2010 release. I sent the book in a couple of days before I left for China, and I realized then that I'd need to come up with a verse, reader letter and dedication when I got home.

Generally, writing the dedication is the easiest part of preparing my book for publication. In the past, I have dedicated books to friends and family, to my children and my husband, to those whom I've lost and who I miss. The words usually flow from the abundance of the love and appreciation I have for whomever the book is dedicated to.

This time, I'm struggling.

I know who the book will be dedicated to.

Who else could it be but my Cheeky Q?

One day, when she is older, I will give her a copy of the book so that she can read my heart's thoughts and know what I was feeling in the weeks after we brought her home. Perhaps she will be a teenager, fiery in her independence...an older more mature even more beautiful version of the spunky girl I now know. Maybe the words I write today will fill something inside of her that's missing. Maybe, in some small way, they will give her insight into how true and real and big my love for her is.

And so I am struggling.

Just a few words. That's all a dedication is.

But I have so much more to say. I could fill an entire manuscript with words, and my thoughts would still spill out, overflowing into another manuscript and another and another until I was drowning in pages.

And it still would not be enough to say everything that I think I must.

Last night, as the girls were getting ready for bed, I heard Q giggling in the bathroom. The light was off and the door was open, the hall light spilling in. She'd undressed and was waiting for me to turn on the shower.

And she was dancing, the light from the hall painting her pale gold, her arms and legs moving to music only she could hear. She danced without apology, without self consciousness.

While I struggled not to cry.

Because she was so beautiful, so strong, so brave and so completely unaware of how she inspires me to be stronger and braver and less self concious.

I need to write that dedication. My editor wants it by Monday, but there is too much to say and not enough room to say it. Since I cannot say it all, perhaps it is best to keep it simple.

To my darling Q, I am not your first mother or even your second, but I will be your last. It is true that you were not born from my body, but you have always lived in my heart. First a thought, then a prayer and now a reality that fills me up to overflowing. We have not always shared a past, but we will always share a future.
You are mine, my cheeky girl, and I am yours. Forever and a day, to the edges of the universe and beyond. I love you.