This month marks my one-year anniversary as an Orlando Moms Blog contributor. It also marks the fifth anniversary of my personal blog. I’ve known since the fifth grade that I wanted to be a writer, but I never found a way to make writing my career. And then one day I had a personal epiphany. I am a writer; I’m just not a paid published author. That’s when I decided to begin my own blog, writing for the three people at the center of my life – my husband and my two daughters.
Last year I became an unpaid published author, converting my personal blog into a book that I’ll give to my girls one day. This letter is the book’s dedication. Although it’s quite personal, I share it hoping that it may inspire other mothers to put their thoughts on paper to share with their children. You don’t have to be passionate about writing to blog for your family, just passionate about parenting.
DEDICATION
My Darling Daughters,
I started a blog as an extension of your baby books to chronicle our family life. While I wrote it largely for the two of you, the real truth is that along the way it became my passion. We all have different gifts. Mine is expressing myself with the pen (or more accurately, the keyboard). I look forward to putting my thoughts on paper and usually write these blog entries after you all go to bed, while I unwind.
Life is unpredictable. When I was in college, I expected to work a few years, get married, have three children by my early thirties, and be a stay at home mom. Instead I graduated from college and worked for a few years, went to law school, met your daddy when I was 34, moved to Orlando to be with him, married him at 36, and after years of struggles, gave birth to the two of you when I was 42. But here’s the crazy thing. I don’t think I would have been nearly as happy and fulfilled with the life that my college self imagined as I am with my actual life.
My father died 11 months and 3 days before you were born. My mother died just before your second birthday, but you all don’t remember her and she did not really know you. Alzheimer’s disease robbed us of her many years before you were born. You all did not have the chance to be adored by my parents, and I didn’t have the chance to ask them about my childhood after I became a parent. That may sound crazy, but after you both were born, I was filled with questions that I wanted to ask my parents that had never occurred to me before. I wanted to know what my childhood was like through their eyes, not through my memories.
In my perfect world, I’ll be here and healthy when you each have your own children. Even if I am, my memories of your childhood will be clouded by the passage of time. One of the reasons that I write this blog is to capture our everyday in real-time, to one day augment our collective memories.
I always thought my parents knew everything. When you both were born, I was stunned at how ill prepared I felt to be your mother. I was equally stunned to see in your eyes the same unwavering and complete confidence in me that I had in my mother. I wondered how my mother felt about being a mom, if she ever questioned her parenting decisions, and if she ever felt overwhelmed. When you all are mothers, I am hoping you will read these passages and be comforted to know that no mother, not even your own, ever feels confident in all of her decisions. A mother’s job is to be present for her family, to forgive herself for her shortcomings, and to make the best decisions that she can. I can assure you that there is nothing in the world as powerful and primal as a mother’s love for her child.
With all my love,
Mommy
