Dear Daughter:
So you graduated from High school last night. The first part of "punishment for being young" (quoting your comment on the year book) is over and done with. Congratulations and here is to the next phrase of punishment for being an adult - cheer, cheer!
I don't wish to offer any advice or tips for your future; rather I want to take you for a walk down the memory lane. I've been asked by many how do I feel about my little girl graduating from high school. Most of the time I smiled and said, I'm so glad she made it. The truth is, from this point onward, I am not going to be a major part of your future; an essence to your existence. In other words, for the past 18 years, your life is part of my life and mine yours. For better and for worse, our life intertwined and mingled in the most precious and volatile way. And now I have to let you be ripped away from me; let you out of the safety net. I shall not disclose the emotions associated with this separation because you will find out one day - when you have your own children.
It is a miracle that you have not developed cross eyes for all the eye-rolling that you've done. Can't tell you how thankful I am of these small yet singificant miracles. One of them is my tongue which is still functional despite all the biting I've done during our many a conversation. It must've taken more than a miracle that my heart works as well as it does for many times it nearly jumped out of my chest when I was in the passenger seat of your driving. Another miracle is hair - yours and mine - you look great in about just every color you've tried on and that mine has not turned all gray. Of all the miracles happened during your teenage years, I appreciate this one the most: your laughter.
O that wicked sense humor of yours - brutal, sharp and lightening quick - had me cracked up; made the I-can't-believe-your-daughter-just-said-that face to your dad; choked up water through my nose and tears streaming down my cheeks. Yeah, you are funny, witty and sarcastic (wouldn't you agree that is a family trait?) and, yes, sometimes I've hoped that I wasn't at the receiving end of your remarks. Then again, one has to wonder where do you get your sharp tongue and quick wit, eh?
Fondly I remember those nights when you were a toddler and we whispered to each other before we went to sleep "We are going to be best friends forever, right?" "Right! Best friends forever." Daddy was forever in school studying, working on projects, completing assignments. It gave us lots of girls' time, didn't it? My favorite sound at the end of a work/school day or night was to come home and before I opened the back door, I would hear your footsteps, tap tap tap, rushing towards me. You've been sitting at the kitchen window waiting for me to come home. Your grandmother would tell me about your day and you clinging in my arms allowing me to give you many, many kisses. Now we do only air kisses...
The first clue I knew that you are going to be the one who follows a different drum beat is when you tied Pocahontas (remember her?) upside down on the bathroom door knob. You were about three years old and were fascinated with ropes. So instead of dressing your doll and be a “mommy” to it, you tied her up with ropes and made a maze with the ropes around the area. One year we took you to the State Fair and, instead of asking for stuffed animals, you wanted the toy set of handcuff and guns. But you have the most sensitive spirit, so tender and fragile at times. Many things you kept to yourself, many struggles you took to your heart. Your parents were clueless at times or too busy going about their business - this competent living business. And you know what, it's too late to apologize for that, isn't it?
I was amazed how you were able to recognize the stores and places we went if the store has a big sign; and you were not quite 3 years old. At the same age, you could pick out the right books by the writing on the spin of the book. You read by yourself when you were five years old. At 6th grade, your teacher, Ms. Rose, was certain that you're destined to be a great writer. Telling you this is to remind you that you do have certain talents. How you wish to use it is your discretion; but do not say that you are not blessed. Do not deny that you are special in the eyes of your parents, your family and some people who've known you since day one - before you even have solid flesh and bones - you know it.
I said that I wouldn't give you any advice, though I need to share this thought with you - as a friend to a friend. Honesty makes one vulnerable. There are going to be times that you simply cannot be honest – please be kind. Being kind is not a weakness as most perceived. It doesn’t take less courage to be kind than to be honest; the action you take will heavily depend on the situation you are in. If, one day, you figure out how to be honest and kind at the same time, make sure you share your discovery with your mother, ok?
Enough of this old woman talking, let's hear it from some old men, shall we?
"Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year's nets!" Henry Wadsworth Longfellow(1807-1882) U.S. poet.
"Youth, large, lusty, loving -- Youth, full of grace, force, fascination. Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?" Walt Whitman (1819-1892) American poet.
Love you always and forever,
Mommy
No comments:
Post a Comment