It's easy to say
"It'll work out"
"You'll get through this"
"Things will get better".
It's much harder to put these into practice. To step back and examine the every day and find beauty. To put one foot in front of the other even when your legs don't feel like moving. It's hard to fall down and get back up. The bruises hurt even after you're back up. The fear and strain lingers like ice on a winter morning, hard and cold and cruel.
But you have power. Power to change your direction, power to take control, power to overcome. A well of potential brimming over, a brilliant bird in flight. You've got it all inside you, just waiting.
I remember when you were small, when you walked so slowly up the walk to preschool that I chided you. I was in a hurry and you weren't. You've never been in a hurry. Deliberate, unfettered, drifting. I've realized over the past few days that this lazy pace won't change. I've come to see that perhaps you think you ARE hurrying, even when you're not. Perhaps the crystalline universe behind your eyes is infinitely more beautiful than the normal world I see. Who am I to rush that away? Who indeed.
I want you to know I'm sorry. For rushing, for not understanding, for missing the moments that are building your life. I'm sorry for forgetting how fleeting this is, how soon you'll fly my nest, how insignificant these struggles are in scope of tomorrow. I hope I've convinced you that character is much more important than grades. That being kind is worth more than being on the honor roll. That respect is harder to earn than A's. Fortunately, you've mastered these concepts on your own. I just want to make sure you know that I know. I know how wonderful you are.
And I'm proud.