2.19.2009

Dear you.
In one hour and 37 minutes from when I start to type this,
I will be a legal adult. I will gain the ability to legally
stay out past eleven p.m., buy porn, buy cigarettes,
vote, be tried as an adult, and go to the dentist
all by myself, among other things.

I will have the shortest, but best, summer of my life.
I will start culinary school, and I will go to Europe and
at some point, I will graduate. I will get a 9 to 5 if I'm unlucky
and I will work until I can be my own boss and make
cakes how I want to make them. I will own my own business.
I will be something great.

I will get married. I will get a home. I will have children.
I will have a family, and responsibilities out the wazoo.
And I will feel so complete. I will drive my kids to practice
and rehearsal, and give them the opportunities that I never had.
I will let them experience music, and art, and sports, and
I will let them pick what they love, and I will let them
pursue it. I will give them things.

Did you know, that if I had been introduced to art earlier,
I would be trying my hardest to go to art school right now.
I don't want my children to miss out on that.

I will give my daughter a woman's day,
she can skip school and we will go shopping
and I'll take her to the beach,
and I'll tell her all the things my mother
never ever dreamed of telling me.

And I will watch my husband play with my son.
They'll wrestle in the front yard and
he'll teach him to ride a bike.
We will have a dog, and it will be a husky
with the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

I'll watch my children grow up in front of me.
I'll see them off to prom, and take pictures,
and cry when they turn eighteen,
just as I know my mother will.
I'll watch them start college,
and work, and succeed, and get married,
and have a family, and grow like I have,
and grow like I will.


And then one day,
I'll be weathered and wrinkled,
and I'll sit in my front porch,
and look out at the water and the
willow tree that I always dreamed about,
and I'll reminisce about a day where
I cried because i was to afraid to grow up
and to eager to experience life,
and I'll hold the hand of the person
who decided to spend all of that time with me.

One day, I will die,
and I'm looking forward to every
moment until then.