My Lip Gloss is Poppin' My Parents' Hearts
The Act of Parenting
My Lip Gloss is Poppin' My Parents' Hearts
Hello Friends,
Here I am, getting a jump on my daily post at midnight! Take that writing challenge—I've found a way to outsmart you. Who needs sleep when there are words to craft?
For tonight's post, I want to share an idea that's been brewing. It’s inspired by my friend Marc Typo and his beautiful letters to his son, Myles. I've been thinking about creating a section of Parental Notion—or perhaps a standalone series—focused on parenting, presented in an almost play-like style. Imagine scenes from my life broken into "acts," each centered on one or all of my children.
Why? Because I’ve felt the need to capture life through words, photos, and videos. But not just to capture—to lock in thoughts, emotions, and moments that might otherwise slip away. I’m painfully aware that I won’t be around for every day of my children’s lives, and I want to leave something behind that’s more than just memories. I want to give them something tangible, something they can revisit, to feel my love, hear my thoughts, and know how much I care.
So, let’s start with a scene that played out today/yesterday — The moment a stick of lip gloss ripped my heart out of my bloody chest.
Scene 1: My Lip Gloss is Poppin' My Parents' Hearts
Scene: Three locations. The setting alternates between three distinct moments. One captures Mom working at a coffee shop after dropping Oldest off with friends. Another focuses on Oldest navigating a world of independence, out with her friends for the first time. The final moment unfolds at home, where Dad makes lunch for the Middle and Youngest.
[Oldest’s Moment: The Makeup Store]
Oldest is wandering through the aisles with her friends, eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. She stops at a display of lip glosses, hesitating momentarily before pulling out her phone.
Oldest (texting): Hey, Mom, can I buy lip gloss?
[Mom’s Moment: The Coffee Shop]
Mom is working on her laptop, sipping iced coffee. Her phone buzzes. She picks it up and reads the message from Oldest. A tender smile spreads across her face as she types a reply, her eyes glistening with emotion.
Mom (texting): Yes!
She quickly takes a screenshot of the conversation and sends it to Dad, her fingers trembling just a bit as she wipes away a tear.
[Dad’s Moment: The Kitchen at Home]
Dad is in the kitchen, making lunch for the Middle and Youngest. The sound of their laughter echoes from the other room. His phone buzzes. He picks it up and sees Mom's message, along with the screenshot of Oldest's text. He stares at it momentarily, feeling a deep, bittersweet ache in his chest.
Dad (texting): My bloody heart...
He takes a deep breath and continues making lunch, trying to shake off the feeling, knowing it's just the beginning of many moments like this.
His phone buzzes again with Mom's response.
[Mom’s Moment: The Coffee Shop]
Mom sees Dad's message and quickly types back.
Mom (texting): I'm tearing up!
She sets her phone down, trying to focus on her work, but the emotions are too overwhelming. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
[Oldest’s Moment: The Makeup Store]
Oldest, unaware of the emotional exchange happening between her parents, smiles as she selects a lip gloss. She heads to the counter with her friends, laughing and chatting, the weight of her small but significant decision completely lost on her.
As the moments fade, the focus lingers on Mom and Dad, both caught in their emotions—a mix of pride, nostalgia, and the inevitable ache of watching their child grow. Meanwhile, Oldest steps further into her world, with lip gloss in hand and her parents' hearts full behind her.
Yep, that happened today. I mean, yesterday—it's 1:26 AM now. I just spent an hour watching videos on how to write a play/screenplay. My eyes are heavy, but this little moment probably took ten minutes and felt like a micro-lifetime. She's growing faster than my heart can keep up, and I only pray the Lord lets me capture as many of these moments as possible.
I don’t know when my last moment on this earth will be, but I do know this: I want to leave something that speaks to my children and shows them how much I care. These scenes, these acts, are my experiments in capturing it all.
Until tomorrow,
John D
Felt like a I was seeing a commercial - the ad is all about love. Glad you’re putting the words down family.