A Letter To My Daughter on her 21st Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday.

 My Darling Girl -

Today you turned 7 - but you are reading this at 21.  I hope you are sober enough to understand what you are reading -- and the mom in me hopes you don't go out and get rip roaring drunk just because you are 21.  But the former 21 year old in me realizes that you probably will, so I hope your best friend who goes with you stays sober enough to pour water down your throat and give you some aspirin before tucking you into bed. 

I think back on this past year and I am constantly amazed at who you are and how wonderfully powerful you are.  I remember how terrified I was at you starting first grade in a public school, and how you handled it with grace and humor.  I think about how quickly you are growing away from me -- new friends, new activities, new interests that I am not a part of -- and while a part of me wants to hang on that much tighter, I realize that I have to start to let go so that you can make mistakes, and learn, and experience.

And dammit, it's hard.

At 21, you are once again moving further away from me -- (hopefully) into your own house/apartment, own work, own friends, own activities and own interests that I am not a part of.  I hope that your father and I have given you guidance and background to make good choices.  I hope that you know that I am proud of your accomplishments and the choices you make because they are yours and you own them.

And I hope you remember -  to be gentle and strong and to fill yourself up with art and music and learning and experiences.  To simply feel.  To take time each day for you - to pray, to breath, to think.  Don't ever stop thinking and learning.  Be generous and kind - build others up, don't tear them down.  Take chances and risks.  Fly when you can and pick yourself up and try again when you have too.  Be confident -- the kind of confidence that comes from being fine when not everyone likes you.  Not everyone will like you.  That's okay.  This ride you are on, this life - it is awesome.  And yours.  And I hope it is everything you want it to be. 

I know that being a person is hard sometimes.  You are not alone.  Even though I'm letting go, I am still here when you need me.  I always will be. 

You are amazing and brave, independent and smart.  You are beautiful  and funny, joyful and creative. 

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything.


I Love You,

Mom