To My Daughter On Her 18th Birthday

I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t had the bandwidth this year as a writer or a baker, there hasn’t been a lot of joy in it. The ever looming question is, “Who cares about what I have to say.”

I mean, we are still amidst a global pandemic, in a time of social change, political drama, and that’s just the headlines.

That’s not the people living day to day in the thick of things. After more than a year in public education Covid style, I too am more apt to go out and pull weeds than I am to engage in conversation. I don’t think I am alone in this.

So when my daughter graduated, I didn’t cry (don’t judge..I cry plenty). The whole college acceptance and scholarships so she could get there, end of the year parties and celebrations were like things we checked off. Card and check to this awesome kid. Done. Go to this dinner, and so on. Newly back in the realm of social gatherings, vaccinated, pre-Delta and Omicron. Let’s do all of the things and wrap up this chapter.

And then I got the gift of spending this entire summer working along side my kid. Up for five am. Harvesting or planting or setting up together at the best place I could ever imagine being lucky enough to work. With my daughter. Who actually liked the fact that we were together. We have always been close, and after a year of being home together, this gift was more than I could have dreamed.

She is full swing in college now, and even though I see her face daily, the time spent together is short. Assignments, schedules, work, and life all play a role in this.

As it should be.

Because, I have always known my children were on loan for a time, and then they were supposed to go and do their own thing. My job was to get them ready to be decent humans in the world and do good things. To be kind, but take no crap. To meet the need if they could, without being taken advantage of.

So slowly the bandwidth has come back. Just in time for me to let things go.

This past August, when she turned 18, I finally had the space to write the things that I probably should have written in her graduation card. The one I never gave her, because I just couldn’t find the words. I held onto this post a lot longer because I’m still grasping at the parts of me where creativity and words come together cohesively. This is also tender, and the world isn’t always a place to put forth the vulnerable parts. But here goes.

This is an adapted version, the total version of her love letter is hers alone. I am claiming the parts back that I feel work for every single young person I know. So therefore, it probably has an ever bigger audience. Overwhelmingly, I feel like our babies need to know more than anything, that they are loved. As they are. And we as parents need to get out of the way with our own “stuff.”

Our journeys aren’t over yet either.

So maybe we can read this letter to ourselves and know that we too, are just perfect…In all of our imperfection. Loved, even when we feel alone or unlovable. Accepted, just as we are.

Dear Emmy,

I need to start this letter to you by backing up about eight years, when my dad was first diagnosed with cancer. The one appointment I got to drive him to, we were heading to radiation- and it was in the beginning of things. 

My dad told me that he had written letters to important people in our lives saying all the things he wanted to say. He had mentioned family members and important friend’s names that he just wanted to say thank you to…for loving his family and taking care of us. 

And then there was a brief pause and he said to me, “But I didn’t write one for you… Because, you already know.”

I cannot tell you how many times I wish I knew what my dad would say to me if he had written me the letter. In my heart I do know all the things that he would say. I know them because his is the voice in my head. But it still would have been nice to see those words in print.

So today on your 18th birthday, two months after you have graduated, I want you to know all of the things.

Or, at least some of the things, the things that matter right now. 

One: You have been a gift from the start. You were wanted, and we are so so glad that you were born to us as parents. I say “us”, because even though Dad is not here anymore, his joy was you Emmy. He fought hard to be a part of your life, and he loved you so much. So, he is a part of this.  

Two: Who you are on the inside is as beautiful as who you are in the outside. You are not perfect, but you don’t need to be.

I thank you for the way you read a room, for the way you are polite and kind, for the way you meet the need when you see it. I thank you for your discipline and for your hard work and for your ability to stick with things even when they’re tough or stressful. I have seen you be beat down and yet you continue to work. There are things that I would have quit that you have persevered through. I am so proud of you for the things you have accomplished in your short life. And I look forward to seeing all of the things that you do accomplish moving forward. 

Three: I hope that one day you are loved by someone who loves you for exactly who you are and who you will grow to be. I hope your heart is open and you receive the love that you deserve. I hope you don’t settle or compromise in anything ever, but especially in this.

Four: In this life you will not have a perfect easy path. Sometimes (as you have already experienced), things are crappy before they are better. Don’t give up. Yes, things are hard – but you are strong.

Fifth and Lastly: no matter where I am in this life, you are loved until the last day of yours. I am so thankful for you. I am so excited for the path ahead of you and you will do great things. 

Of all of my life accomplishments, being your mom is by far the one I consider the most important and wonderful. I’m sure you’ll need therapy for many things LOL, but I hope you know I really did try my best.

You are everything I ever wished for in a daughter and so much more.

All my love,

Mom

I’ll get back to posting recipes soon. I have the photos edited and ready to go. But for now, I thank you for coming to the table. 🙂

Love,

C