Monday, May 20, 2013

A letter for Solana


May 13, 2013


To my dearest Solana,

When you were still a resident in my belly, I dreamt of the day when I would be able to go around with you outside me and introduce you to everyone as my creation.  I already saw myself pointing to you and announcing “See that! I made that!”  Your father and I would carefully and thoroughly discuss all the things that we wanted to teach you and all the ways that we wanted to raise you so that you would become a person of substance and a woman of grace. 

But as I start to get to know you, I realize more and more that you are not mine to own or mould.  Already you are showing signs of a personality I didn’t think someone who only came into this world 6 months ago could have.  And while I recognize bits and pieces of myself and your papa in you, you are already mostly you, which is now the only thing I will ever want you to be. 

If I ever forget in the future, as I most likely will, remind me please, and again and again if necessary, that you are not mine to own or mould.  If you want to experiment on an outfit or a hairstyle that I think is hideous, if you choose to believe in an ideology that makes no sense to me, if you should ever fall in love with a boy who is way out of your league, or if, God forbid, you start rooting for the Lakers, look me in the eye and tell me gently please “Mama, I know you love me and you want only the best for me but I am not yours to own and mould.”

I, on the other hand, am yours anak.   Absolutely and forever.  How's that for irony?

Your papa and I realized the first time we held you in our arms that nothing in our lives would ever come first again. It is unbelievable how quickly and how willingly we became a cliche.  So yes, I will be THAT kind of mom.  The kind of mom who wont sit still until you are home safe and tucked in your bed at night. The kind who will desperately try to fit in your life even if it means listening to annoyingly loud teenage music.  And of course, the kind who will cry the ugly cry at birthday parties and graduations and probably practically every little thing that makes her realize that you are growing up.

I will be that kind of mom. That is a fact.  Please learn to deal with it as quickly as possible to avoid any unnecessary drama that you might be drawn to in your tweens.  

Yesterday was my first ever mother’s day.  You did not know that of course and you were too into your hands to realize how much that day meant to me.  You were not able to greet me, at least not in a language I understood.  Nor did you buy me any gifts.  But when I woke up that morning, I found you already awake, quietly observing the ceiling.  When you heard me stir, you looked at me and gave me the warmest and sincerest smile I’ve ever seen on anyones face. 

That was enough.  That will always be enough. 

Thank you.

Love, 
Mama