Read this on galpod.com.
My Love,
My, how you’ve grown this year. It has been an emotional year, a year of hard-earned success (you got into that school you wanted), of changes (physical and environmental), and growth (mostly physical). We moved to a new home. You moved to a new school, albeit the one you wanted to get into, and your friends scattered a bit. You still see them on weekends, and you have already made some new friends, but change is hard.
You’re almost as tall as me (as you love to remind me) and whizzed by me in shoe size. I was so impressed with how you managed the big new school, even though you missed the shuttle sometimes, even though you got lost occasionally, even though not everything was smooth. Still, you figured out how to get yourself home. School is finally a challenge for you, and you work hard both in and out of the classroom.
I’ve looked at all the letters I’ve written over the years, and it struck me just how much of it is still true. You always liked to do things on your own. You were always kind and made friends quickly. You were always great at asking questions. Music has been an interest since you knew how to make sounds with your body.
When you put on your blazer and tie and leave home to catch the bus at 7:15, it’s easy to see you as an adult, a working man. But you’re not. You’re still my baby. You’ve got more growing to do. Until then, I wish for you this year and forevermore that, no matter where you are, you’ll always know how to find your way home.
Love always,
Ima.
For the sentimental: A list (with links) of all the letters to date.
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