Thursday, October 05, 2006

A very special Letter **Special post**

To my unborn little girl:

My dearest child,

I wonder at this very moment what you will be. Will you be a little boy full of dreams and hopes, baseball and cards, science and technology? Or will you be a little girl, with hair of a deepest caramel color. Full of hopes and dreams, implanted with the light I’ve been given from birth so you can pass it on to others as only females seem sometimes able to do.

I like to think, while I would love a little boy, perhaps I would get lucky to have a beautiful little girl… you. In a perfect world where we can bend reality just a bit in our favor, I would do so many things.

You would have hair that I would never dream of cutting. I would learn how to braid, as I myself never have been able to do. I would share dreams with you of fantastical castles and worlds tucked away in your imagination. I would involve you in all the form of arts that you wished to experience. I would watch you dance with your dance costume, the hat of which would be askew on your head but your smile would dazzle all anyway. I would watch you paint and spill it all over my floors. I would listen to you sing, exploring your voice that sounds somewhat perhaps like mine and I would cry quietly to hear the little girl in me sound like the little girl I know as you.

I would watch you as you grew up through the years, shielding you as I could, but allowing life to seep in so that you grew with experience. I would hold you in my arms when you cried and my heart would break in a thousand pieces for each bit of your soul that you spilled from your eyes. I would burn with anger at things that caused harm to you and that would fuel whatever task I needed to in order to make sure you were safe no matter what.

I would watch you graduate from grade school accepting that diploma, taking your first young adult steps without knowing where things went after each passage of stages of life.

I would watch you grow awkward with me when adolescent years and puberty hit. I would be sad for the little girl whose hair I would braid, and perhaps I would write of our castles that we had built so when you returned to me you could read of how our dreams carried on through my love. I would sit up all night worrying when you went on your dates and be so mad when you came home late but would hug you tightly feeling the anger spill out of me and away form us in the knowledge that you were safe.

I would watch you graduate high school and enter college and begin with fragile steps the path of your life that would help take you to fulfillment in the soul within you that I helped to create. I would give you all the knowledge I had in me to help you make the best decisions you could make.

I would cry for you and with you over the injustices of the world and the corporate America we all know of. I would hold your hand so you could hold your head high knowing that I had your back no matter what.

I would cry when you came home with a stranger in my life who you wished to make a member of the family. I would question him, and be certain that he knew just how special you were to me and make sure he knew that he had to treat you this special too because there is only one you…

And someday when I watched you walk down the aisle into a whole new section of your life, I would remind you before you took that step, that you were always a twinkle in my eye, a light in my heart, and that today you shine with all the love I’ve infused in you that you have made your own.

~*~

I hold my stomach now and know you’re in there, along with this dream that I carried deep in my heart unbeknownst to even me until today. I tell you now as I would tell you as you grew in my fantasy world, that you are special, there is only one of you, but you are not to be mine; that somewhere in the grand scheme of life, this dream that I secretly harbored was not to be for me. And I would remind you that the spirit you would have had through me, still exists for you, but carried by another.

I send out in this letter to a very real soul, a wish that someday when your spirit finds it’s home that perhaps you wonder why you have the passion to sing and write without perhaps knowing that you could. Or perhaps you reach out to others and do not know why you do but know you must…

I wish your spirit a quick journey home, because you should be loved, and will be loved, because you … are … you. And there is only one of you, my angel.

Sue

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In my acquired wisdom I've accepted: 1. That it's OK to admit I like girly things 2. That it's OK I didn't post this ON...