Letter to my daughter – May 10th


I think over the almost two decades that you have been in my life with a sense of awe and regret.  When you were born, I could not believe that this beautiful creature had come from my womb.  How had I managed not to fuck this up and would I be able to live up to the awesome task of not making a monumental mess of this gift that I held?

it seems that somehow along the way things have gotten skewed in a way that I never meant it to be.  That is where the regret comes in.  The last thing I have ever wanted is for you to make the mistakes that I made.  However, I’ve come to the realization that you are going to make decisions that I may never agree with and it’s you that will have to live with the consequences.

I cannot go back and change the past.  I also cannot make you take any of the wisdom that I’ve managed to acquire over my four decades of living.  All I can do is tell you that I love you, even when I sense that you do not believe it.

My wish is that I could go back in time to pinpoint where everything changed.  There had to be a pivotal moment in which you felt that your family didn’t love you, a point where you believed you were better off not letting anyone in, closing off the outside world to prevent any pain of loss, hurt or betrayal.

However, my dear Persephone, as much as we cherish the joy in our lives, we must also embrace the pain.  We cannot truly enjoy life and all the beauty it holds without contrasting it with the ugliness that exists.  When we try to block out that which hurts us, it’s like we are living in grayscale, never seeing the bright and vibrant colors of life.

Know this, when you finally allow those of us who love you so deeply into your world, I hope that I can hold your hand to help you.

love mom


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s