Dear Dadadadad
Cameron asked after you again this evening and I realised I had not written to you in a while. So much has happened, all good things, clearing up and clearing out – you said
to me once that, as I “plodded” towards thirty, I’d “probably” sort myself out. Hehe. I guess you were right. I never factored in that I’d end up so goddamn thankful for each
second of my life and yet, here I am, vibrating with gratitude whilst plodding.
Work is well and fine, and like you said, if I put my mind to it, I’ll do it. And I think I am. Well, I’m trying to, even on the shittiest days. There are good days and there a bad
ones, but the spaces between are where I feel my best, less scared and more aware. Does that make sense? Who knows.
I’ve seen two good friends this week who I just want to squeeze with love. Boos and Seh. Boos is good, and looking fantastic. She never changes, never wavers and still
makes me laugh like a cackling, spitting loon. I always knew I would be lucky to be blessed by her, and it’s phenomenal to me how Cameron remembers her, and how
easily she just got into the groove with her.
Seh is, Seh is. Wow. Seh is a fantastic mother. She was made to do this parenting thing we hold so high. Calla is gorgeous and so good. I never thought I’d ever see Seh
so calmly doing this. She’s so much braver than I ever, ever knew – I always knew she had the courage to take over the world, I just never knew she really would. I guess love does make the difference in the world, after all.
It’s been so re-affirming to see them again. To talk of nothing and everything and be silent with each other. It’s so rare for me to feel that I can be silent in the presence of
another person. And yet, there they are. good friends who have lived through the quiet and the insane noise of my life thus far, and have never wavered. I’m a lucky, lucky
girl. I have very good friends.
Ah, but that’s not the only reason I’m lucky. As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, I’m really quite taken by this person. I think you’d like him. Funny enough to make me
want to throw my shoes, yet quiet enough to let me feel safe. Familiar enough to feel comfortable and scary enough to keep me on my funny toes. Just like you said, once.
Enough about me, let’s talk about her for a minute. There are so many times I look at Cameron playing, talking, twirling around, that I wish for you to be with us. That I think
how fantastically you would be gobbling up this experience of life with this precious person and how, when I have tired of reading Cinderella for the ninety-fifth time, I
sometimes wish I could ask you to do it. I think Cameron would love that.
Sometimes I’ll catch her doing something that I so easily see you in. The way she likes to creep up on me with that funny, arched-eyebrow look, when she knows she’s
going to make me laugh. Sometimes when she thinks, she puts her finger on her nose, and I laugh and ask her if she’s holding up her imaginary glasses. And when I
ask her what she’s thinking about she says, “Mom. I’m thinking. Give me a minute”.
The time, it slips away so quickly. Just like you said it would. But, I’m having the time of my life as her mom. I’m having the time of my life as me. It’s the little moments that mostly nobody else sees that make every day with her so precious. The way she squeezes her little arms around my neck and says “I love you mom”, and the world spins around us but in that moment, we’re entirely still.
You were always so good at telling stories and I try really hard to be the same. Sometimes I’m just so darn tired, though. But, I do try. Enthusiasm is a choice, after
all.
I often used to question you about all of this parenting shiz. And you would laugh and say “out of the three, you were the hardest”. Heheh. That’s probably why I won’t
chance it again with another. When you said you knew I could do it, I don’t think I believed you then. But, I believe you now, and I hope I do a good enough job. Only one
person can answer that though, and it’s not you or me or anybody else but her.
I never thought she’d be the girl she is today. Does that sound strange? I thought she’d be a tomboy, a rough and tumbler, and yes, she is to some extent. But the inner
princess is floating right through her. I wish you could see her dance. Can you? Without the slightest abandon or fear of toppling over – all she cares about is that she is
dancing.
She rides her bicycle now, and I swell with pride. She kisses my cheek and nothing in the world beyond our front door matters at all. You said nobody could teach me to be
a mum, that I would just do it, and I do. I’d ask you how can you love someone so much that you would do anything in the world for them…and you’d say “you don’t think
about it. you just do it because, it’s the most natural thing in the world”.
You were right, after all.
It’s bedtime for me, so good night and, keep sending the feathers. xxx
