Happy 18th birthday, sweet girl. I can’t believe this day is here.
So, here’s the thing: For all of these years, I’ve been looking forward to today, to giving you these letters. In my head, I imagined you would appreciate the sentimentality… but you got your time capsule from school a few weeks ago, and you haven’t even opened any of those letters, so I suspect that you’ll look at these and feel just completely annoyed.
Win some, you lose some, I guess.
This was not how I pictured this time in your life, and I know it’s not how you pictured it either. And yes, I find it so cosmically unfair that so many things are left undone at the moment. That we haven’t been able to celebrate, that your school hasn’t stepped up to the plate and done a better job (or, you know, ANYTHING AT ALL) to truly acknowledge your class and this big milestone. This was supposed to be all done – but there are loose ends all over the place, and who knows when they’ll be tied.
That sucks. Graduation was a bust and you’ve barely gotten to spend the time with your friends like you should be. And I’m hoping with all of my heart that something happens soon so you can close this chapter and just start looking forward to the next.
Because I’m so excited about what comes next for you. At this point last year, you weren’t yet excited about the prospect of going to college and then over the summer, you truly started getting excited about it. And then you crushed all things by earning a massive scholarship. I know you struggle with bragging about that – but it’s a huge deal, and I’m so proud of you. At the end of four years, when so many of your classmates will be saddled with student loan debt, you get that chance to start that next chapter with very little debt at all – if any. And that will be huge in the future as you decide where you want to be and what you want to do. You won’t be shackled with that monstrous weight — and why? Because you have worked SO HARD through high school to become the exceptional young lady you are — a strong leader, a compassionate human, an empathetic friend, a helper, and just all around smart cookie. I am so very proud of you.
I have loved every year and every moment watching you grow into who you are. Watching you on stage, lighting the way, has always taken my breath away. Your confidence and grace amaze me — and while I have no idea where it came from, I am glad that you have it, because it will help you in so many ways, wherever you go.
This year you’ll get to vote for the first time and while I am sorry your options aren’t better, I am also confident that you will always take this responsibility seriously and that you will make educated and thoughtful decisions every time you cast your vote.
I know it’s hard to feel excited about stuff right now, because it feels like the universe is just being a butthead, but despite the current situation and how tough it’s been, I remain excited for you, for your future and what it holds.
I was thinking the other day of when you were an infant — of the first time I saw your name printed on something that I didn’t write. It was a prescription label, I think. Probably for eye drops. But seeing your name in print, this name I gave you, was a moment of, “She’s mine, this person…” And though I no longer get excited about prescription labels, I do still get a rush of realizing that this person I created is now this totally awesome human adult person. How on earth that happened, I don’t know – but it did and here we are.
I was going to say something about this year ahead and you going off to college, but then I realized that I would end up crying while typing this, so maybe I’ll just skip that part. But I hope you know that the door is always open for you (and your laundry), and I’m glad you won’t be that far away but I’m excited to watch you find your wings because the world is ready for your magic and I can’t wait to see what you do.
Usually I tell you more of what happened during the year — but, well… you know what’s happened this year. It’s all recent enough, you’ll remember.
Happy happy birthday to you. Today, we’ll have your friends come over and, with everyone six feet apart, we’ll have cake and we will celebrate you. I know it’s a weird celebration, but I’m glad we can do something — and I hope you feel loved every moment of today… and every day.
I love you lots and lots of tater tots and I am – as I’ve always been – so very lucky to be your mom. Now go take this world by storm. You’ve got this.
Love,
Mom
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