Mom’s Letter To Her Final Graduate

01 Jun 2021 Leave a comment

by Deb D in Growing Up, Parenting, Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

Dear Peach,

Remember when your puppy would grab a shoe and wouldn’t let it go until you tempted him with a new toy? Even then, he tried his hardest to figure out how to hold onto both, unwilling to surrender a speck of joy. You resemble this as you stand between your high school graduation and your college experience – excited about the future but hesitant to surrender the familiar. 

You’re burning the candle at both ends – capturing time with friends in a desperate frenzy to make last-minute memories.  But time is measured and no matter how much you squeeze into each day, you may never feel replete.

Most days I hardly see you and conversations are limited to relaying logistics. When you surprise me with an unhurried kiss, I melt a little as I try not to count down the number of loving interactions that remain before your departure.

I reassure you that all will be well, while hiding the fact that I’m trying to bolster us both. You think you’ll miss me more than I’ll miss you, but the fact is that you’ll be having entirely new experiences that aren’t meant to have me in them. I, on the other hand, will be in the same setting I’ve always been in, minus you.  My landscape will be missing a beloved irreplaceable feature while you will be painting on a blank canvas.

Encouraging you to embrace this next step is bittersweet. It’s like putting down a good book. Even though I know I’ll love the “Motherhood” sequel in which you become an adult, a small part of me will always favor the first installment, because that’s the one in which I fell in love with you.

Being your mom is a privilege that came with a time stamp. You are our family’s grand finale. When you walk across the stage to accept your diploma, my heart will quiver as my mind plays a highlight reel in the background of the ways in which you have punctuated our lives. 

Who would we be without your steady, stabilizing personality, your enormous ability to forgive, and your signature sweetness? How would we have learned new dance moves or kept up with pop culture and vast music genres?  And what would have become of us without our Resident Peacemaker?

Peach, you have assets that you haven’t acknowledged yet. They’ve always been there, twinkling like tiny stars, just waiting for an opportunity to burn brightly. Don’t be scared to shine. The light from within you will illuminate your path and lead you to authentic joy.

Soon we will pack up a portion of your life and drive it into your future. We won’t be able to fit all that you want to bring along. But soon enough you will find that the only things you actually need to succeed are carried within. 

When doubt creeps in and spoils your confidence, remind yourself that you haven’t made it this far in life by accident. Replace your ‘what if’s’ with ‘even if.’ No matter what happens, you will handle it and I will be right here backing you up. 

Trust yourself. Trust Life. And remember that you are exactly who you are meant to be. 

Love, 

Mom 

Letter to University from Mom

10 Aug 2015 4 Comments

by Deb D in College Chronicles, Growing Up, Just Life, Parenting, Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

collegeBoundDear University,

You are about to receive a gift. We call her Principessa and she is my daughter. To you, she is just a statistic – one set of criteria that met with approval for acceptance into your esteemed institution.

Principessa will be leaving all that she knows to join you several hundred miles from home. She will be on her own for the first time. I don’t expect you to parent her or to take over for me in my absence. But I do expect you to provide her with what she needs to survive and to thrive over the next several years.

I hope you fulfill the promises you made when you wooed her into your fold – a solid education that will lead to job prospects, a safe environment, and ample diversity and opportunities to stimulate her personal growth.

This seems like the least I can ask for my financial investment. Which, by the way, is significantly higher than many of her fellow classmates. For instance, the athlete with the coveted ‘full boat.’ Apparently his physical skills are more highly valued than my daughter’s passion and talent for nurturing children and her long-standing desire to become a teacher.

My husband and I will pay an inflated sticker price for the reward of our daughter’s college education. To say that I’m not bitter or worried about the ability to afford this would be a lie. But I’m willing to bury my negativity in exchange for her ultimate success and happiness.

University, you have no idea how special my daughter is to me. And I get the feeling that you probably don’t care – except for caring that she reflects well on your reputation. Don’t worry, she’ll do you proud, just as she has done for us all these years.

Principessa is one in 17,000 to you, but she is one of a kind to us, her family. Please be good to her. She deserves the best you have to offer.

Sincerely,

Mom of the college Freshman

The New You

29 Jul 2015 5 Comments

by Deb D in Growing Up, Insights, Just Life, Love and Other Things, Parenting, Reconciling Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

brand-new-you1

image credit purefunfit.com

Dearest Daughter,

I love that you so clearly wrote your feelings in response to my spontaneous comment about not liking the New You.  I am equally unhappy that your email was written at 1:00 a.m.!  Why? Because that is very late and I worry, as mothers do.

I try hard not to share my worries because I want to project confidence for you.  Deep down, I believe that you’ll be fine, even when you make poor choices or even good choices that I don’t like.  I believe in fate and God and the goodness of Life.  But my human-ness and my mom-ness continue to plague me with what-if scenarios.

When you were a clumsy toddler, I watched with fear as you climbed a playground structure.  My hands were never far from your body, waiting – expecting – to have to catch you.  My mothering instinct is to protect.  Over the years, I’ve learned to subdue the urge to rescue you, even when you begged me.  Case in point: making you call the orthodontist to let him know that, again, you need to replace your retainer.  And that you will be paying for it.

While punishing me as a child, my mother told me, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.”  I didn’t believe her.  I do now.  It hurts me to see you struggle, even when I know it will result in your favor.

As the first-born you bear the task of paving roads.  All along the way, my parental inexperience has been your guide.  You are my first child to leave the nest and I am learning how to reconcile my heartbreak with my pride.  Both emotions are strong and are battling for victory.

Last night, you captured a heartfelt but selfish comment from me.  When I said that I don’t like the new you, I misspoke.  I love all versions of you.  What I dislike is the feeling that my world is changing so drastically and so quickly.  You are living life your way, not my way, as it should be.  I envision myself grasping for the rope that tethers your boat to the dock.  But your ship is ready to sail.

You are branching out toward unfamiliar experiences, taking advantage of the bounty of youth, and it’s difficult for me to watch.  But my skepticism is not an indication of the rightness or wrongness of your choices.  As you pointed out in defense, you are consciously taking risks and risks are essential to growth.

Principessa, I trust in your core values.  I believe your intentions are pure.  You don’t disappoint me.  And I could never think less of you.

Thank you for pointing out that it’s also hard for you to see yourself changing.  We know that change is essential and beneficial but it’s often scary.  Now that we’ve exposed our mutual fear and shined a light on it, it looks less daunting.  Let’s agree that we won’t let fear get the best of us.

You worry that you’ll become someone you don’t recognize.  It’s true that you’ll stray from the person you’ve been, but you can’t lose yourself.  There is a part in each of us that is connected to our source. It cannot be severed. You are, and always will be, uniquely you by divine design.

If you forget who you are, how special and precious, just ask me.  I will pour my love into your heart and remind you of your value. As always, I will be here, with arms outstretched, ready to catch you if you fall.

Loving you more than you can imagine,

Mom

dr seuss you

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