Arizona,
It’s been a
while since I’ve written to you. Back then we didn’t even know your name and I
don’t think I’d been able to feel you move around or get hiccups or anything.
But now you can hear sounds and you’re developing more fat so you’re much less
skeletal and you’ve even got your own personality at this point. Week 29 and
the time sure is passing slowly! We can’t wait until you’re big enough to
survive out here – which you’re working on, so I’ll try not to be too
impatient. You’re already head down and practicing breathing techniques for the
real deal. It’s only a matter of time.
I feel like
I want to say a bunch of cliché phrases to you right now that’ll inspire you to
make the most of your impending time on Earth. Things like, “Life is short,”
and, “Each moment is precious,” blah blah blah. But it’s all so true! I realize
how many times people say those things and how roll-your-eyes it seems, but no
joke. You’re going to blink your eyes one day, look around, and wonder when you
turned into an adult. You’re going to look back on all your memories and
hopefully find peace in them. Right now you don’t have many memories at all (do
you even have any memories? probably not…) but time is going to sweep you away
and before you even know what happened, you’ll be older, wiser, and well on
your way to having children of your own and making your own way in the world. I
know, I know, I didn’t believe any of this when I was a child either. But as
you are now, so once was I, and as I am now, you’re sure to be.
I want to be
frank with you for a moment, woman to future-woman. I have a lot of memories
that hurt me to think about, and sometimes those memories will bubble up from
my subconscious like little pustules of negativity or self-doubt. And no matter
how hard your daddy and I try to prevent it from happening, I’m pretty sure you’re
going to have some of those types of memories yourself. You’ll undoubtedly
experience conflict where you’ll wish the world were a better place; you might
have your heart broken a time or two by people you love; you’ll bicker with
friends and not know how to repair those bonds. Life is pretty brutal
sometimes, and there are bound to be some let downs.
But you know
what helps?
What really,
truly helps?
Hope.
I know,
another cliché. Another roll-your-eyes word. Your daddy will probably roll his
eyes when he reads it. But again, it’s so true! I want you to know that you can
make a difference in this big ugly world. There’s a lot of bad, but guess what?
There’s a lot of good too, and if you try your best to be a bright spot in
others’ lives, if you truly try to see the positive side of things and share
that side with the people around you, then you’ve already made a difference. It
always saddens me when I hear people say that they can’t make a difference,
because literally everyone can. Imagine, if you will, a world where people
believed in smiling at strangers, or a world where people sat down their
smartphones at cafes and struck up random conversation with the strangers
around them. Imagine tiny little moments of kindness you witness throughout any
given day, whether it be the person in line in front of you buying your coffee
for no reason at all, or the doctor you visit sitting down with you and putting
some genuine attention into your care, or even someone holding an elevator door
open for you. All these little things… imagine if everyone did them. You can do
them. You can be the spark that ignites a chain reaction. One smile, one
listening ear, one piece of gum given to a classmate can brighten someone’s day
and make them want to brighten another’s.
The world
can be a mean, heartless place, but only if everyone lets it be like that. Don’t
let it.
Your daddy
often goes out of his way to help and/or brighten strangers’ days. He’ll
probably protest and say he doesn’t, but he absolutely does. I believe with all
my heart that one person can make a difference in the world, and I pray that
you can find it within yourself to believe that as well. Everyone matters, and
it’s up to each individual to do the best he/she can to pave the way toward a
brighter, less ugly tomorrow.
There’s
something about childlike hope and optimism that should be nurtured until they
strengthen into hope and optimism that transcend life stages. If everyone were
more childlike in their regard toward other people, then this world would
undoubtedly be less violent and less scary. I’ve been called childish before,
but I can’t say I believe that’s an insult. If anything, viewing the world
through childlike eyes keeps me sane. It helps me to remember that everyone
matters, and that all people deserve second chances and random smiles from
random passersby.
This letter
has probably gone off in loads of different directions, but really, the message
I’m wanting to deliver is this: I sincerely hope that you never lose faith in
the world and in the people who live in it, because that faith can move
mountains. Oh, I just can’t wait to meet you and learn from you and grow with
you. I can’t wait to see what ripples you create in this world. It fills me up,
absolutely fills me up, this blossoming well of joy when I think of who you are
and of who you could be. I can’t wait to read books with you and watch you
wrestle with Dustin and throw you in the pool to teach you to swim (that’s how
it works right?). I can’t wait to make funny faces at your newborn self and
watch your nose scrunch up. I can’t wait to chase you around the house and
eventually introduce you to your cousins.
Love you,
kiddo,
Your Mom
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