Dearest Daughter: 14 years 7 months

Dearest Daughter,

In five very very short months, you’ll be fifteen years old and a freshman in high school. Lawd have murcy where did the time go? It seems like yesterday I was pregnant and fussing at you to stop treating me like a soccer ball. Of course, I don’t know why I would fuss because you wouldn’t listen and if you did, it only lasted for a few minutes. I swear you were practicing for the Women’s FIFA World Cup.

Speaking of those endless soccer matches, do you like and/or play sports? If you do like sports, please tell me that you dislike the Dallas Cowgirls. I know you grew up there but it would just break my little football loving heart if you liked the Cowgirls. Yes, you’re entitled to like whatever team you like but to know you and I could possibly share the same loathing for the Cowgirls would me so very happy. *wink wink*

All jokes aside, I can’t help but wonder how many similarities we share.

For example, I absolutely love to cook. One of my dreams is to have a huge gourmet kitchen and spacious dining room so I can host dinner parties. I’m no Susie Homemaker but there is something very comforting about cooking and sharing one’s kitchen creations with other people. Plus it would be nice to pass down recipes to you and your siblings if and when they will come someday. Unfortunately, my baking expertise is more limited than Tony Romo’s ability to take the Cowgirls to another Super Bowl. yaaaaaaaaaaaaas i had to throw that one in I’m not a bad baker but I’m not a pastry chef like your Uncle Anthony and your Aunt Eva (one of my best friends from high school). My tummy is rumbling just thinking about all their wonderful pastries.

What about singing and dancing? I can’t dance well but I’ll do anyway because I love it so much. My singing voice isn’t as good as it used to be. I try though.

I’m not going to even ask you about music. I imagine you and I would differ about music just as much as my co-worker and her daughter, who is four months younger than you, do. Just because you’re my child, I already see the sideways looks you’d give me about the music I listen to because I’d give your biological grandmother the exact same look. Whatever!

Oh baby girl so many questions yet I’m not sure when if ever they will be answered. Sometimes, I have to force myself not to think about you because I cry every other time I do. I see so many teenagers with their moms and/or dads and wonder. I wonder what you’re doing at that particular moment. I wonder how our relationship will be. I wonder if we’ll ever have any sort of relationship at all.

Truth be told I’m so incredibly scared to re-enter the family because I don’t want to hurt or confuse you. I’m afraid you will hate me for not keeping you. I’m afraid whatever answers I give to your questions won’t be enough. I’ve read way too stories about first meetings. Yes there are some good ones that end or progress happily but there are others that well… Those are the ones that scare me the most. No, I don’t know what the future will hold. And no, I can’t predict it. But that doesn’t mean I’m any less afraid.

Hopefully, if you ever read these “Dearest Daughter” letters, it’ll help you understand who I am and what you mean to me.

I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.

When it’s cold outside I’ve got the month of May.

I guess you’d say

What can make me feel this way?

My girl (my girl, my girl)

Talkin’ ’bout my girl (my girl).

I love you always,

 

Mami

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