Dear Mom: ONE DAY I’LL FLY AND YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO FLY FOR ME
As they usually say, Mother’s Day was yesterday, and it will be tomorrow, and so is the other. Because one is a mother until the last of her days, although her functions are changing as her children grow up.
This is precisely what I want to talk about today, and this is also true for parents (so if you want,) then you pass it on to them to read it as well, why should we take advantage when they are small to give them all our affection, our example and our love: There will come a day when they will fly, and that day you will not be able to fly for them.
That day I’ll have to fly alone
It’s inevitable. There comes a time when children begin to come out of the shelter of the home, the dependence and the limits (at least some of them), and the world breaks through our eyes. Your adult world, the world in which you live and that among all you have created so that we may also live in it.
That’s a little scary, isn’t it? It is logical. Surely you have fought a lot to change it, but it is impossible … all the fathers and mothers of the world should agree and go at one, and fight for a reconciliation of truth, for a society in which children were the most important, and not second-class citizens like now (remember that we are the future), and that is not going to happen. So it is often said that if you cannot change the world, at least change yourself, so that your family and your children are part of that change.
For this is the message, to tell you that the most important is not that you spend energy changing the world that you can not change, but do it to make us, your children, your legacy, people of good. It says a well-known phrase: “Do not worry about the world that you leave your children, worry about the children you leave this world.”
How? Well, given that there are not many years you have to do it. Maybe it’s 12, maybe 13 or 14, but there’ll come a day when I’m finally going to find out everything; I will beat my wings, fall on more than one occasion, and my desire to try again, my safety in it, and many other decisions will depend largely on what I have learned at home, what you have transmitted to me.
From that age, what must be left is trust. Of course, you can still teach me a lot of things. I will still look at your way of fixing things, dealing with conflicts and finding solutions, but by then my right environment will have expanded. You will be, my parents, but also my friends and my girlfriends, each one with his dreams, his restlessness, his joys and his sorrows, all different: some wanting to be the best, others wanting to go unnoticed, others looking to be the most popular and others the most rebellious.
I’ll join them all, and I’ll have to find my place in that group and start making important decisions. Or at least they will be for me. What to choose what I want for breakfast or what shirt I have better will go to the background, obviously, before the dilemma of leaving with the group of the most responsible, the group of those who seem good people, but they look like geeks, the group of the Antisystem that only seek freedom and live to the brim, the group … or just decide not to pigeonhole into any of them and opt to get along with all, if possible.
I will have to choose what to study, appreciate what I like best, discover how to communicate with the girl or the boy that I start to like, decide if I have better a smile or a cigar in my mouth and if it is better to try to have fun with a soda, with a beer or with that bottle of liquor that someone will have gotten out of the rules.
Do I get in that car or do I not? We just met!
Will they respect me more if I do that madness that they tell me I have to do to become part of their group? It sounds like fun, why not? Why should I?
I will also have to decide whether to put myself on the side of the oppressed or the oppressor or the side of the abuser or the abuser because we do not deceive, there are still teenagers with so many problems of self-esteem, which seek to solve it by destroying the lives of others.
Will I find out that you have been preparing me for a horrible world, and I would be grateful to you for helping me to be critical and steadfast in my convictions?
Or will I realize that I just helped to be autonomous, emotionally speaking, because you always knew what was best for me? Maybe now I won’t be able to make my decisions because you never let me take them.
Or maybe you gave me so much freedom that now I’m not sure what’s right and what’s not? Or was it not freedom and it was permissiveness? So many years of letting me dominate your world and now I realize that I do not have anything.
What do I want to get
You’re probably wondering what this is all about. What a greeting of Mother’s Day is this and that if you come to know, you do not read. Well, that’s what I say at the beginning. Those are the days of the mother, as all are the days of the father, and all are the days of the son and the daughter.
What you do today, how you act tomorrow, what your way of being, acting and educating every day, week, month and year, will depend in large part on how I, your son, will be when all those moments come. They won’t arrive the same day; of course … it will be a progressive thing. But at that point, there will be many things that you never find out, or it is too late. So what’s left at the end is, as I say, trust. You won’t have control anymore, and that’s scary. It must be confidence that the day I fly will be able to value my wings, to discover my abilities responsibly, my limitations and my possibilities, and to choose well the way, but often I am mistaken.
You’re my example, keep that in mind. You’re a hug when I need it, never forget it. You are the heart that opens to tell me how you feel, when you suffer and weep, for me to learn that the pain exists too and that you can get good things; like solutions or desire to refloat, and that when it is not possible, at least you can learn to live with it.
You are all those things, and much more, and so I thank you infinitely. Because every time you treat me with respect, with affection, every time you bite your lips not to find another solution to explain what could have done better, you’re teaching me how I should act with others, and how I should treat them. When you tell me, I’m so angry! And you tell me and in the end, I understand, I’m discovering those emotions that sometimes I feel, and I cannot name: The anger, the anger, the desire to avenge … and your way of acting teach me that there is another way to channel that anger.
And when we play, and when you laugh and make me laugh, and when you leave what you were doing to help me a moment so that I can continue, when you shine your eyes to look at me … When you’re my mother, my mom, and I look at you with pride, and I feel like yelling at everyone that “hey, it’s my mom!”
I just wanted to say that. That the bad thing you’re going through now, how hard you’re sometimes doing has a reason: there are many worries, many hours wondering how to do better, many hours without sleeping just to try to make me happy, without tears. And then the constant search for information to take care of me in the best possible way and all those hours that you dedicate me to teach me so many things, and teach me to live, to communicate, and to be.
Everything you do now will help me get to that time, the day of my first flight, with more confidence, values, principles, self-esteem and security in myself. So thank you, Mom. Keep it up. Keep it up. Thanks for everything.