I can not believe that in just a few days our world will change again. Your first day of school. I am so nervous for you, and for me. I am worried that your inability to speak like them will shape you and change you… And it will shape you, your first day in a French world.
Maybe it will be “the day” you look back on as the starting point of great things for you? I look back on the day I threw a mud pie in your uncle’s face as the beginning of knowing both my strength and my limits. I hope that this is that kind of moment for you. A moment that allows you to glimpse the strength you possess. It is a mind blowing force, your strength. Taller than giraffes, and louder than lions.
I am hoping that I carry an un natural calm in my pocket that day. I’m not sure I will be able to let you go at that doorway. Your doorway into another world. I try to envision myself waving goodbye, smiling, excited for you. I can’t. I am too worried that I am throwing you to the sharks. The language sharks. What if they chomp your heart right out?
What if you believe a lie that day. A lie like “I will never understand.” What if that tiny whispery seed of a lie plants itself in your gut and grows up until your whole being believes it? What then? How will we recover you from the wreckage that awful whisper caused?
All this worry. For nothing, because if I think deep enough and pure enough I know the truth. You might stumble and tumble and run helter skelter… but then you will fly, my son. You will fly.
And I will be there for it all.
Love,
mom
