Letter to My Daughter
There have been some beautiful Autumn mornings in the last couple of weeks – on these mornings I make sure I take time for a walk – often taking the scenic route home after the school drop. It’s a time for some peace, for a chance to take in the beauty of nature and to think. At the moment I’m doing a lot of thinking, contemplating, reminiscing. I often do this but currently I’m doing this because its Autumn – beautiful, crisp, bright, colourful Autumn – my favourite time of year. Many mornings of late have been a perfect example: an endless clear blue sky, mist in the distance making the trees look like they are floating on clouds, the perfect sunlight illuminating the golden carpet of leaves across the dew-drenched grass. My favourite time of year.
We are in a time of transition – you are growing older, more independent. You have a room filled with One Direction posters and you talk of your love for Harry Styles and yet you are still little – you love your cuddly animals and still come and snuggle in bed with me in the morning. When you are asleep you could be any age – its hard to tell from the endless sleepy pictures that I still love to take.
Walking to and from school is one of the times of the day I love the most. The paths leading up to the school are a great place to observe human behaviour – there are parents stationed at various distances from the school gate depending upon what their children will allow, or how embarrassed they are currently of their Mum or Dad. I am one of the lucky ones – you still let me hold your hand, you let me walk with you all the way to the gate, you still let me walk you right across the playground and even let me give you a hug and kiss. I don’t suppose you will let me do this for too much longer so I have to savour it while I can.
Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been sorting out old pictures – pictures of you from when you were tiny – this makes me reminisce and get a bit emotional – not that I need too much help on that score. There are so many photos that I love. In some you had the exact same quizzical look in your eyes as a baby that you get now, if you don’t understand something or you are confused.
You have always smiled and laughed so much – you have serious moments of course and occasionally you have quite a rant but you’ve never been a solemn child – you’ve always had a sparkle in your eye.
And over the years you’ve kept that lovely balance – the fun, the craziness and the tiny percentage of seriousness…
So for now I cherish the fact that you run out of school and throw yourself into my arms for a hug – no matter who sees. And I cherish the fact that in the morning you keep turning and looking back and waving at me all the way to the door, occasionally blowing kisses. You wave right up until the last second you disappear inside the building … every day you do this I think you won’t do it the next day – but you do – at least for now.
I will soon be one of the Mums stationed at a suitable distance away – I will hate it when that day comes – but you are getting bigger and I have to get used to the idea. And just when I think you can’t get any more sweet you come out with a new night-time message when you hug me – You say “I love you Mummy” and I say “I love you more” and then you say “That’s just not possible”.
Love you to the moon and back little girl xxxxxxxx
Previous letter to my daughter can be read on this link