Dearest Shayla,
You’re sixteen now and I know that you think you’ve got it all figured out. You have a job, you’re going to get your driver's license and you’re in love with a beautiful boy. You are sure that it’s forever. You share a room with your sister, which is not ideal, but you’ll be leaving soon anyway, right? Out of the house, away from Leslye and from your parents who couldn’t possibly understand you. The rules feel like a vise grip around your throat and all you’re thinking about is the countdown until you get the hell outta Dodge.
I get it. Even now, 25 years later, I do not like rules. I will follow them, but only if I understand them. If I don’t, then I ignore them. I haven’t been arrested yet, so despite the pressure (inside and out) to conform, trust me: we do just fine.
However, I know you’re in a hurry. You are always in a hurry. You even speak really fast. You read really fast. You think really fast. You are eagerly anticipating the next stage of life: college.
SLOW DOWN.
You are a smart girl, so I know you understand this intellectually, but you will NEVER be 16 again. EVER. You’ve never known real sickness or sorrow or despair. You haven’t had a broken heart. You are still absolutely sure that the world is waiting for you to conquer it. Nana and Papa are still alive. Aunt Beetsy is still alive. Uncle Richard and Uncle Wayne are still alive. Twenty five years from now, they won’t be.
Enjoy what your sixteen year old life has to offer. I know, I know, you’re rooming with an 11 year old bed-wetting thief that seems hell-bent on living in rancid squalor. Some days, you are sure you hate her. You don’t. She doesn’t really want to antagonize you. She just wants your attention, because she so admires her big sister. She’ll tell you this much later, when you’re both grownups. Talk to her. Hang out with her. When mom lets you erect your bed tent, invite her in to sit for a while.
You are, of course, going to college. I’m not going to ruin the surprise and tell you which one, but the message is the same. Don’t be in a hurry. You’ll like college, meet some great friends (one of which will be your best friend, who is still your best friend to this day), but you’ll think that you’re tired of being broke and you’d like to now move on to the money making portion of being an adult.
I haven’t yet figured it out, even from this distance, why we felt like we needed to move along quickly past this period of time - it’s not like we quit a lucrative job to attend college. Take your student ID to the nearest travel agency, get a plane ticket and a Eurail pass. Study a year abroad. Join an intramural sports team. Just enjoy the peace that is only having to worry about midterms and finals. Be a broke college student. Do not sign up for any credit cards, I don’t care what kind of swag they’re giving away. Trust me when I say, it’s not set up for you to win here.
It feels like you have all the time in the world, but you don’t. Before you know it, you will become a wife and mother and all of the adult things you were chasing after hit you harder than an NFL lineman. Your choices become painfully narrowed to making sure that you can take care of this precious gift you love deeper than anything you’ve ever loved before. Travel, exploration, contemplation all have to take a back seat. The journey vacillates between humbling and humiliating. We become familiar with the stench of despair. Yes, we - queen of plans, goals and answers. As it turns out, we don’t have it all figured out. I’m not cautioning you to avoid anything here, this journey makes us the woman we are today. I like her, a lot. I’m proud of her too. We find out just how resilient we are. We persevere, we cry, we fight and we win.
I’m asking you to walk around the house and take it all in. Shortly after you leave for college, mom and dad move out. After that, you’ll never be inside this house again. You’ll see it from Nana’s porch, but you’ll never have the opportunity to go inside. Other people move in and it’s no longer your house.
I’m asking to you really look at mom and dad. Now? They’re in their sixties. They will never look that young again. Hug them and kiss them. After that, walk across the street and hug Nana and Papa. Really tight, for me. Listen to the sound of their voices. Soak it all in. Ask Uncle Richard if you can play a video game with him. I know, you feel like you’ve moved past video games by now, but just do it. You will never regret spending more time with him.
Enjoy high school for what it is, another stop on the journey. Be present for all it and remember that your value as a person has nothing to do with your intelligence. It has nothing to do with your achievements. You are a good person. You have a lot of growing to do, but your basic foundation is that of goodness. For the most part, you accept yourself as-is. That puts you light years ahead of many adults. Be with that. You are always enough.
I’m also asking you to embrace and value the simple life. You think so now, but you don’t need a lot to be happy. I get it. It’s where you live. It’s this niggling feeling that things would just be better if you had more money. I’m telling you that’s wrong. Money doesn’t have that kind of power. It’s paper and metal, not a wizard. We make a great living now, but I’m happy because I choose to be. I choose to be grateful for what I have. It’s a futile chase, always wanting the ‘next’ thing. A better car, a bigger house, more clothes. It will never stop unless you put a stop to it. It’s this yearning for the next, better thing that leads us to wish repeatedly that we were 18 instead of 16 or that graduation was tomorrow instead of two years from now.
The yearning is a thief and you won’t know what it has stolen until it is long gone.
I love you Shayla. I truly do. Best of luck to you. Have fun. Enjoy the process.
Be seeing you.
