Sixteen hours and beyond

It had been a full sixteen hours I’d been away from home, juggling my time at work and running errands here and there. It was already five past ten in the evening when I found a quiet corner, hit the numbers on my phone and someone picked up. “Hello Mommy! How are you?” I heard you on the line.

I was half-surprised a three-year-old like you still awake this late, but half-expecting it was gonna be your voice I’d hear on the line.

A quarter of an hour after that call I opened the door and I saw your biggest smile as you jumped up and down the couch. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” you said over and over, much to my delight.

Rose told me you had been asking where I was. I turned to you and said I was busy at work all day. I asked your nanny how many times you looked for me. She said so many times, she had lost count.

At bedtime you pushed away your favorite stuffed toy to my side of the bed, turned your back on me and said, “No need to tap me, Mommy. I'm now a little girl.”

Only sixteen hours hours ago, you were my baby. Sixteen hours later, you have grown to become my little girl.

You asked if my tummy still hurts. Then I remembered I told you on the phone my tummy was not okay. In your own words you said, “Don't worry, Mommy. I am here.”

And just like that you were my source of comfort as I wept beside you like a child.

From the baby I used to cradle in my arms, to the little girl who runs and twirls: how you have grown so fast in so little time.

I began to wonder, where have I been all this time?

As I feel a sense of pride at how beautiful you are, I felt a pang of guilt for how many sixteen-hours-and-beyond you’ve waited for my return, and how many more sixteen-hours-and-beyond you have to bear without me by your side.

I remember years ago, there were countless times I stared blankly at the ceiling thinking about taking a stroll to the mall, running to the gym or just going back to sleep. I had me all to myself.

If only I had superpowers I would put together all that wasted time and give it all to you: building sand castles, playing catch the ball, staring blankly at the ceiling together—anything as long as we do them together, you and I.

Tomorrow you will wake up and just like today I will be in such a hurry I won't have time to shape a ball from your clay or watch your favorite episode of Peppa Pig with you.

I will promise to read you a book as soon as I get home without really knowing what time I will be back.

Tomorrow you will see the day turn to night without me by your side.

When the day is almost over you’ll hear me knock at the door, yet no matter how long I kept you waiting, you will still give me the warmest hugs and sweetest kisses as soon as I take off my shoes.

It's now past midnight you are sound asleep. I look at you and I think how much you must have been longing for more of me.

Maybe someday soon you will no longer have to wait indefinite hours for my return, we would spend all the holidays together, and I will have all the time in the world to be your favorite playmate.

Maybe someday soon before you are too old to build those castles in the sand, before you no longer need my magic kisses to banish any pain, before you grow a little taller, a little smarter, maybe someday soon I will no longer have to keep you waiting sixteen hours and beyond because you’ve waited for too long and you simply deserve all of my time in the world.

Bernadette Reyes is a Senior Correspondent/Anchor at GMA Network Inc. She has authored a number of essays about motherhood and her favorite topics, her mom and her daughter, Rafa.

Read her previous stories about her family here:

The mother who forgot she had children

From Louis Vuittons to Parisians: How motherhood has changed me

My mother lives on