A Wish for my Daughters

As my girls grow up right before my eyes, I often wonder what it is that they will remember from these days of our togetherness. Will they recall the silly moments, the laughter, the fun? Will they remember the chaotic moments, the impatience, the bickering?  Will it be big trips and special events or the daily routines that stand in their memory? Will they look back at the many wonderful experiences they’ve had or better their childhood disappointments? Will they roll their eyes and commiserate together about all the things I did and said that made them crazy? Likely, the memories will be a little of all of it.

I’m fairly certain that there will be plenty of things that I have said along the way that they will dismiss (both unknowingly and deliberately) as they move into adulthood but I can only hope that they embrace and internalize all the messages I have sent them, both in words and in actions, that are the most important to me; the ones that I hope that they carry with them guide them throughout their lives. About how amazing they are, about how beautiful, strong, capable they are. And that’s just the beginning. There are so many things I want them to grow up knowing.

Every once in a while I see, read or hear something that expresses exactly what I want to say to my girls. When you set a simple, sweet sentiment it to music, like in the case of this song by Lee Ann Womack, it really sings (pun intended). As cheesy as it may seem, I don't mind admitting, I cry every single time I hear this song.

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance.”

What messages make you weepy? Tell me I'm not alone.

The Rush

She’s there,
On the tip of a steep cliff,
Playfully dangling her toes off the edge.
She could take five comfortable steps back,
And be safe again-
But she’s tired of safe.
 
For she craves the fall.
She craves the wind rushing around her,
Filling her lungs
and bringing goose bumps to her arms.
Although she loves the soft landing behind her,
It is the thrill she seeks,
Knowing that as soon as the cliff beneath her crumbles,
Her life begins.
 
Her life-
Her own.
The cliff of her childhood will soon be gone,
And she sits,
Looking over the edge,
Seeing the rush of the fall-
The rush of her life,
And she is tempted to jump,
To leap into the possibilities almost in reach of her dangling toes.
Who will I meet?
Where will I be?
What will I become?
The constant itch of these questions lies in her bones,
For she knows she must wait for answers.
Wait.
Wait.
 
And soon-
She remembers her soft landing,
It is not quite finished yet.
She goes back to basking in her final moments in the comfort,
In the familiar…
 
But her strive for the wind,
for the fall,
for the rush,
is always in the back of her mind.
She’s ready for her new life to begin.

* * *

Image and poem by guest Shutter Sister Suzanna Hodges, age 17