Avery –
You’re two hands today, and I’m having some feelings about
it. I love seeing your grow up and I wouldn’t
wish staying small upon you, because you want to grow up, and you’ve earned it –
for the last 364 days! Five was really a
great year for you. You received, especially
recently, “wow, you’re only 5!” by people you met. You are tall, and mature, and were so prepared
to enter the life of a kindergartener.
You rode the bus the first day with your brothers, and you told
me how that was one of your favorite parts of the day. And not because the other parts weren’t good,
the rest of kindergarten was pretty great, too!
It’s a long walk from the bus stop to our house, about a half a
mile. Walking back with you and your
brothers has become a highlight for me.
You get off the bus happy, chatty, and what a gift that is, especially in
the year 2021.
2020 and 2021 have been rough. These years have proved how tough kids can be,
how adaptable. Every time I see a video
of an asshole “American” (you’ll be 18 when I give you these letters), walking
through a Walmart without their mask harassing employees because the mask
infringing on their freedom, it fills me with a bit of rage. Wearing a mask at school is barely a blip in your
life, doesn’t even come up in conversation, because it’s the easiest thing to
stay safe and care for others. I’m sorry the adults in your world haven’t been
able to do the things keep COVID out of your schools and out of your life. I hope you and your generation make better
choices than the ones we have collectively made.
But back to the first day of school. My baby, my shadow, my girl who sticks to me
like white on rice, told me, “Hey mom, you know you don’t have to meet us out
here at the bus stop. We can just walk
home on our own.” Yes, daughter, you can.
You can walk home, you don’t need me.
You can do anything. I was an independent
child who turned into an independent adult.
It has served me, and I hope your desire for independence serves you
too. But I like the exercise, and the conversation.
Real talk, though. I’ve
never felt as fully “needed” as I have with you. Perhaps, “wanted” is a better word. On a rough day, I feel too needed, too
depended on. But more often, and as you’ve
grown up, I just feel wanted. Snuggling
with you in bed, you tell me how lucky you feel to be my daughter. And not to outdo you, but I’m pretty sure the
reverse is even truer. You tell me I’m the best mom in the world, followed by
the practical, “well, I don’t know all the moms, but you’re a pretty great one.” You like to be taken care of, but you like to
care for as well. I will never forget
the day this summer that you gave me a 30 minute massage, unprovoked. I’m talking feet, hands, back, neck, head, with
lotion. It made me want to cry how relaxing
and amazing it felt to have my five year old want nothing except to make me
feel good for that length of time, expecting nothing in return.
Because you’re the youngest, I get to share special moments
like that with you. If it was your
brothers (lets be honest, it wasn’t your brothers) doing that, I would have had
a younger child to deal with and a 30 minute massage would have been quite
impossible. We get more time, and while “GO
PLAY!” may come from mouth on certain days while you follow me into the
bathroom, I truly love spending my days with you and feel particularly lucky to
be your mom.
Happy birthday, AK.
Love,
Mom
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