Here we are, my darling. You’re in fourth grade now, and it’s astounding to see how much you’ve grown. You’re all arms and legs, full of energy, marking your independence with every step you take. Your dad and I always knew you’d be remarkable, but witnessing your self-sufficiency leaves me in awe. Remember when you first walked to school alone at six? Now you guide your little sister with more ease than I sometimes do.
I shouldn’t be so taken aback by the joy of raising you. The challenges shouldn’t catch me off guard either, yet here I am, navigating both surprise and struggle. I’m amazed by how extraordinary you’ve become, and I grapple with the moments where I feel I haven’t contributed my best to your journey. My own limitations sometimes overshadow my role as your parent, and I feel the weight of that.
In your early years, you taught me profound lessons: how to nurture and care for someone, how to show love and kindness, and how to find joy in the simple act of loving and being loved. You helped me realize that those connections are what truly matter—our family and the bond we share.
I used to write to you often, capturing our moments together, but as life has swept us along, those reflections faded. Instead of stepping back to observe, we’ve been living fully in the present.
Yet, I miss those moments of connection. Dedicating time to reflect on you—your triumphs, your struggles, your dreams—reminds me of the depth of our relationship. I may respect your growing privacy, but I sometimes lose touch with the incredible spirit that resides within you. There’s something powerful in documenting these moments; it allows me to relive the joy of your early years, if only for a fleeting moment.
But lately, I’ve noticed a distance forming between us, and I want to address it. It’s intimidating to watch you grow, and at times, I shield myself from the wonder that you are. I didn’t mean to create that barrier, yet it seems natural to pull away as you step into your own. We are human, after all; we falter, we thrive, and we carry our past into our relationships.
You were my first true love. Loving you came effortlessly when you were younger, but as we’ve both matured, that dynamic has shifted. You’re blossoming into a unique individual, while I sometimes feel weighed down by life’s complexities. You cartwheel through your days, full of excitement, while I find myself preoccupied with worries and responsibilities.
On good days, I pause to truly see you—the little girl you once were and the remarkable young lady you’re becoming. I cherish our family, the love we share, and the memories we’ve built. Yet, I also recognize the need to reconnect. My heart needs reminders to stay open, even when life feels heavy.
As you become more self-sufficient, I find myself choosing solitude more often. I need to put on my own oxygen mask before helping you, and that sometimes creates space between us. That space, while necessary, breaks my heart. I strive to acknowledge it without allowing it to consume me. I want to be present, open, and supportive for you as you navigate your own path.
You, my dear child, have been a guiding light in my life. Even when I pull away or falter, your love remains unwavering. You’ve shown me how to endure, how to love deeply, and how to embrace the journey we share.
So we continue this journey together, you and I. We’ll navigate life as mother and daughter, tackling every challenge and celebrating every joy. I will strive to be more present, to lean into our connection, and to cherish the moments we share. Whether it’s a simple grocery run or a cozy evening at home, I want to seize every opportunity to bond.
Today, let’s create a little magic together—a caramel steamer for you and an Americano for me. Let’s embrace the beauty of October, with all its vibrant colors and changing seasons. It’s a time for growth, for connection, and for honesty.
Take my hand, and let’s enjoy this journey now.