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Take A Letter

I’ve written a lot lately in my journal late at night. From time to time, my life seems very busy and this was definitely one of those times. My schoolwork was intensive, the children were very busy, Steve even had new duties with his latest promotion; I want to remember these times later in life, so I remind myself to take the time to write down what is happening. Some nights I can write multiple pages easily and sometimes my thoughts float onto the pages one word at a time. When I went to the 5&10 this week, I picked up a diary for Daisy. She may only be able to make simple sentences this year or little drawings, but getting her off to a good start will help her capture more of her life.

Having a daughter is scary, you want the best for them and you need to protect them. Daisy is a good talker, plays well with others and pays attention in school; I suspect she does not like much drama. Daisy is sensitive to loud noises and sometimes covers her ears when we get close to trains or a plane flies overhead. I have watched her enjoy the enchantment of having a best friend who lives next door. Marie-Claire and Daisy can spend hours together one day and have new conversations the next day. Her communication skills are wonderful and she can have funny talks with her dad and hold her own with her brother.

Junior and Daisy grew up playing with each other because they lived in the same house. There were times when they disagreed and snitched on each other; I refereed when they couldn’t compromise. But most of the time, they just played together. Although that is a great foundation for being siblings forever, it isn’t always memorable. The emotional moments, the highs and lows, are what remains in our memories. It’s funny to think of parents arranging play times for children as they grow up. I wonder what adults would think if people were just randomly chosen to come over to their house to spend a few hours. Somehow, children can bridge those gaps better than adults. It takes me a long time just to say hello to the check-out girl if I haven’t met her before.

I went to meet Daisy’s new teacher this week. She is a lovely young lady with long, blonde hair and an earnest smile. She already knew a little about each of the children in her class even though it was full. The little desks were in four rows of two, so each child had someone right next to them throughout the day. It was going to be a great life lesson for some children to have to sit next to a student they would have preferred not to. Daisy had already talked about the boy who sat with her in fairly friendly terms. I think it’s good that she had a brother to get along with first so she wouldn’t be surprised how different girls and boys are from each other.

I think Daisy will do well this year. My heart aches with the thought of her growing up and away from me too quickly; I was never especially close to my mother and felt like I didn’t meet her expectations. In retrospect, this would be hard to really believe now, but I never heard my mother tell me her expectations. I would have to start having those talks with Daisy and Junior. Although those are the kinds of discussion children usually can’t stand, eventually it would sink in that I wanted a lot for them in life. We all do. We look to this next generation, with all of the outstanding opportunities they have been given, and still want them to go far in life. My generation fought for them to have more choices. I think in my journal tonight I will start to make a list of the things I want my children to know in life. It’s never too soon or too late to start.

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