My wish for you.
Today, dear mini me marks the anniversary since your birth, another birthday clocked up. Time is going all too quickly as I think back to those labouring hours, to how now you stand proud and tall at nearly my shoulder height. I didn’t get the birth I planned, but we got the birth that you needed. You rocked up into our world two weeks early, and despite protests from those at the hospital that I wasn’t in labour and I had instead a urine infection, you my little determined one was born 9 hours later. There’s me ready to doubt my own body, because over and over, even after the waters broke we were told we were not doing labour that night, yet here we are celebrating your birthday in June and not July! Your determination and head-strong antics have continued and served you well ever since.
There are things that I will say here, that won’t concern you now, today, or this year. It’s what I’m thinking, and not what will be said out loud. For my first wish for you, is to not taint your childhood, innocent view of the world, now or ever. I wish that you can continue to be surprised, grateful and inspired by the smallest of things. When you’re collecting leaves and flowers on the way to and from school, my plight is not to stop you, but to stop the home owners that may grumble at your collection techniques. I wish too, that we all were noticing the different leaves, rather than zig-zagging our way through lives with to-do lists in tow.
This past week or so, I have worried and contemplated on whether I have brought the right presents. Whether there was enough. Not that I want you to be spoilt, although it’s your special day. As you’ve grown, the presents have grown too, so whilst the number has gone down, and the unwrapping time reduced, the thought, the saving up remains the same. My heart sank when announced you didn’t think you would get many presents, and when I asked what you counted as many you said 50. I knew you weren’t serious, but the mummy guilt kicked in. Tempting as it was to go all out, to blow everything, I hope one day you can be grateful that unlike many in this world, we still have a roof over our heads, and food in our bellies. Today you announced it was the best day of your life, your best birthday ever, and you loved me so much. I captured the look on your face as you opened your presents, and the smile from the smallest hamster eraser up to your main present. My second wish for you is to remain as grateful and appreciating as you were this morning, every day. Your smile melted away those mummy fears in an instant.
That smile, please don’t let any take that smile away from you. The way you smiled at your presents, to getting excited over everything, all the time. A smile to say I love you, a smile over catching a spider, that smile over the first fish you caught, or over what your pet has done now. It doesn’t matter what you wear, if you’re wearing that proud smile everyone notices, the same as your laugh. My third wish is that you will find something to smile about always.
As we count another birthday, it strikes me that we are one closer to adulthood. That the number of summers left until your 18th are dwindling, and that in a decade, probably less you might not care for my wonky home-made cakes, or tea parties any more. I’ll be sending you out into the big wide world. One that today, recently, looks scary, uncertain and mean. One that I can’t explain fully when you ask why that’s happened, or it’s happened again. Spending time making sure that what you can see on the television, the computer is protecting you from most of what’s out there. Yet soon, I won’t be able to do that full time, and you’ll be able to see everything, the good and the bad of this place called Earth. My fourth wish for you is that you never have to experience or see some of the horrors that this planet has. That you may help others when you can, and that you remain true to you. Shout out for what you believe in, have an opinion, raise your voice. Talk for those who might otherwise be silenced. Don’t let the world change you, but be prepared to work to change your corner of the world, whatever it’s size.
The fifth and final wish for you on your birthday is that you know there is always a mummy here. When it drops to just being mum, I’ll still be there. When you’re too cool to hold hands in the street, I’m still there. No matter where you are, or what you do, there’s also a little me here whether it be for a hand to hold, or an ear to chew. I’m there, with wonky cakes in tow too.
Wishing the mini me a great birthday, full of all those wishes, smiles, laughter and more.
Rose-Sky Journey Pieces.