You have been gone since 1995 and it’s hard to imagine that tomorrow is my 31st birthday. That’s 16 years without you being a physical presence in my life. You died before I had the chance to let you know something, something important about who I am. But they say mothers always know and something tells me that you knew.
Don’t walk like that. No you can’t play with dolls. You boys don’t need to be back there alone. Don’t stand like that. Stop crying. Act like a boy.
I know you said these things with all the love in your heart and I tried my best to live up to your request. I understand it was what you learned growing up. I know it was because of the confines of cultural identity.
Well, mom here I am to let you know that I’m doing pretty ok. I’ve graduated from high school, went on to college and even earned an MBA. I’m living in a great city and I have a wonderful job. I have wonderful friends and a great love in my life. Ok, ok there have been bumps along the way–I mean isn’t life about lessons learned and no regrets.
Mom I love you. I love the lessons you shared—knowing and unknowing. I love the example you set. In my heart I know I’ve made you proud and I hope you know I have lived each day of my life to honor you.