I couldn’t settle upon tonight’s ponder until I commented on a post by wordpresser sakshivashist. Her words allowed me to remember a letter I had written to my mother as she was packing for a move across the country.
With Mother’s Day just around the corner, rather than ponder, I decided to share. We seem to forget that mothers, fathers, grandparents, and siblings are all people – just like us, and doing the best they can. Instead of building impossible expectations based on story book characters, lets all take a moment to see the people in our lives as beautifully flawed. The characteristic that makes us interesting, and gives dimension to what would otherwise be a flat, predictable world.
When I sat down to write this I thought about writing a thank you , I love you, and will miss you note. While all those are true, and go without saying, I find myself at a loss for words ,which doesn’t happen very often.
I laughed, realizing how appropriate it is, for both of us that clarity is now the dish served cold. On second thought it is presumptuous of me to assume that your clarity is as stone cold. I would be selling you short if I lumped your seemingly endless capacity to take a hit in with my new found acceptance of who I was and why I was so happy.
It’s important that you understand – you make me happy. My thank you is for making me different. For opening my eyes, for making me think, question and imagine. You planted a little seed, so long ago. Sometimes you forgot to water it, sometimes it almost died, in the end, your kindness patience, and nurturing paid off. It took most of a lifetime, yet it finally bloomed.
You had so many dreams. You pictured your life differently. You had no idea you were going to grow the perfect flower. Thank you for making me bloom, for creating something special. We’re so much alike. We’ve both made mistakes that at times crush us with their weight. I forgive you, as you have forgiven me. What’s more important is I’ve forgiven myself; you have to do the same. You need to know that there is at least one person who understands all your dusty little corners. You need to know how beautiful they are when the sunlight hits them. I doubt what I have become would have been possible without your dust bunnies in my flower pot.
Thank you for stumbling and picking yourself up. Thank you for getting a little crazy at times, and for never going completely mad. Thank you for standing by me at the darkest of times, and believing I would pull through. Thank you for hardly ever rolling your eyes when I talk politics or aliens. Thank you for teaching me that Red Winged Blackbirds only nest in bulrushes. You planted a magic bean, instead of a beanstalk, you grew me.
I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t imagine life without you nearby.