I wish I knew you now. I'd really love to stalk your school recess or sit in the back of your band concerts. I'd like to sit behind you in middle school Language Arts and see what you scribble in the margins. I want to know you, while you're still innocent and open, and have a hand in guiding you down the right roads. Because I worry that, before your path intersects with my girl's highway (or rose petal strewn red carpet - depending on who chooses you), you will make too many wrong turns to recognize the prize you win at the end.
My girl.
Whichever one you claim as yours, you will be getting the dream of a mother who just wanted more for them. You will be the benefactor of every belief I struggled with and every moment of pride she inspires. You are one of the luckiest three people on earth, and on this warm February afternoon twenty years too early - you have no idea.
The woman who will love you won't be easy, but I hope to not make her impenetrable. She will know of my doubts in love, but I promise to let her believe. While I will never tell her stories of happily ever after, ever after will always be her plan. The woman heading toward you will be, if I have my way, mostly light with only slivers of shadow. She will be strong without overbearing. Cautious but never afraid. Gentle with you but moreso with herself.
Or maybe she won't.
Because the woman you will one day sweep off of her feet is, at this moment, a girl with her mama's eyes but her very own spirit. If you watched her at recess you'd see that she is equal parts shy and headstrong. If you played the trombone in her jazz band, you'd already know that she has a laugh that makes the room grow - and a sense of humor that is completely her own. If you tried to sit beside her in Language Arts, you would quickly discover that she cannot sit still nor be consumed with your affections.
Oh, sweet boy (or girl), the hand you will one day hold used to fit into my palm with room to grow. So, please hear me when I say: I would warn you now if I could. She will be an extraordinary woman when you find her. Just be patient with her heart. If it's guarded, that's my fault. If it is one day yours, that's her choice. Be a good choice.
And I promise to try to remember that you used to play on swings and sing off-key. I promise to be exactly as soft on you as you are for her. I swear to give you exactly one less chance than she does. The best I can do is my daughter - the best you can do should hope to equal that.
Sincerely,
Her mama.
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