Mom, we’re not the Gilmore Girls.
Knife in the chest. You uttered those words to me about four years ago and my heart sunk. You adored the Gilmore Girls and were enthralled by the close mother/daughter television relationship. I wanted us to be the Gilmore Girls. I tried too hard, eh? Or maybe I didn’t try hard enough. . . .
Remember when I bought you the sewing machine because I thought it would be so cute for us to sew together? Remember the mother/daughter knitting lessons? Remember the “fun” canoe and fishing trips? Sorry, so very sorry. . . . To say I’m thrilled you asked for knives and cookbooks for this special 21st birthday is an understatement. Finally, a hobby we have in common!
From the moment I held you in my arms 21 years ago, I have never wanted to let you go. I’m your biggest fan and you are my Pink Warrior. Recently, while stalking you on the internet (yes, I am guilty!) I found your high school newspaper and your bio said, “[her] most life changing experience was when her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. ” You never shared that with me; my dream is that a good life changing experience replaces that one.
I hope you feel we did a good job. I look at you and realize what a strong, sensitive, independent, march-to-the-beat-of-your-own-drum child we raised. I know we were strict and ran a tight ship but it was all done with love and concern. You’re blossoming before our eyes into a lovely young woman. It’s amazing and scary all at the same time, isn’t it?
I know you are making decisions in your life now that will determine your future. We’re trying hard to understand and respect your choices. We’re so proud of you. You’re scary smart, amazing, funny, and have a bright future ahead of you. I know your future will include being an advocate for those who need help and that makes me so happy. I would also love to see you back acting because I know you miss it—I regret discouraging you from majoring in theatre. You, my dear, are Oscar-worthy, and I know acting is one of your passions. Don’t ever let go of your dreams and passions. Our chameleon child, changing all the times.
Itty Bitty, there’s so much more I want to say to you, but I’d rather say the rest while holding on tightly to you, okay?
You are my sunshine.