A Tiny Rosebud Blossoms

To my beautiful and talented daughter,

Today you are twenty years old.  I get a lump in my throat just thinking about it.  You came into this world such a tiny and vulnerable thing, the cord wrapped so tightly around your neck that we feared we had lost you.  But with one barely audible cough, you shook off your trauma and charged onward.  Since then, this has been your way.  You stare down obstacles and prove you are made of stronger stuff.  Doubters eat your dust.

A lot of people like to compare us.  I suppose it is natural, because we look so much alike.  I have never wanted or needed you to follow in my footsteps.  I know you to be an original of your own crafting.  I envy your ability to know your own mind, to pursue your own interests, and to push yourself to your own high standards.  I love sitting on the sidelines watching how you approach choices and challenges.  You are inquisitive, analytical, tenacious, and adorable.

I will always think of you as the little girl who was armed with “girl power”—the confidence that there were no limits and that everything was possible.  I hope you always retain a bit of that juvenile spirit.  I am happy for you that you are growing up at a time when girls really can consider anything they wish.  It is a good time to be you. 

I wish for you never to doubt yourself or your abilities.  You take our breath away with the depth of your knowledge and the multidimensional power of your mind.  You are wired differently than most, but the world has enough people stamped out in the traditional mold.  You have the ability to see what isn’t there, to imagine complex solutions, and to bring them out to the concrete world.  This is a gift that is begging to be used. 

If I could do one thing for you, I would give you a magic carpet.  You are at your best when you explore new worlds, meet new people, and expose yourself to different cultures.  Every place you visit becomes a part of you, expanding your intellectual capacity and your cultural vocabulary.  You see everything and forget nothing.  Everything that touches you makes you bigger and better, enriching your innate powers of insight and synthesis.  There is a special purpose meant for someone like you.  I expect you to make your mark on the world in a very unique way.  And I expect you to have the time of your life doing it.

Please be careful always.  You are very trusting and sweet to the point that you are sometimes careless.  I still see flashes of the time you crossed the street in downtown Boston, nearly getting struck by the speeding, turning taxi.  You need to look both ways—not just in traffic, but in life, too.

Please don’t sweat the small stuff.  Keep your eye on the big picture, knowing that some of the smaller battles are not worth fighting.  Focus on the milestones, measuring your progress against the steep steps you have set in place for yourself.

Most of all, do not forget that your father and I are here for you—not just to pay the bills, but also to love you, to laugh with you, and to offer you the unconditional support that you have earned.  We are your biggest fans.  We hope to be cheering you on as you cross the finish line, arriving at your life’s destination.

And finally, remember that the thing in your pocket is a phone.  It allows me to hear your voice, which, more than anything, tells me that you are just fine.

I hope you have a wonderful day, sweet girl.

All my love,

Mom