Letters to a daughter – 3

Remember this darling. Always. Amma loves you. Forever. And we might not always be the best of friends. That’s because that’s not my role in your life right now. I’ll be one when you’re in your teens. When you come home from school, fling your satchel and want to cry into your pillow, that’s when I will be a friend. You are a little lioness now, and you need to be told what not to do. You will hate me at times. I realize that. And that’s how I know am doing a good job at this motherhood thing. I am not going to give in to your every whim and fancy and buy you new shoes just because you feel like it. I do not want you to turn into a brat who thinks she’s entitled to every thing. I see a lot of them around nowadays. Self-obsessed, instant gratification seeking children who think their parents are their slaves. And every day, I fight peer pressure to give in and buy you that thing you think you need.

I am the kind of mother who will make you bunk school once in a while and spend the whole day with you, cuddling and reading and watching the rain. Hell, I am the kind of mother who will dance with you in the rain. But I won’t be the mother who will be subservient. And I definitely wont be the kind who mollycoddles you for no reason. You understand things and grasp things much much easily than most adults I know. And that scares me even more, because it makes my job more challenging. Every single day, you amaze me with your wit and your kindness. You might be fighting with me, but will still tell me – “Mamma, I don’t like the way X is talking to you.” And that is a quality I want you to never let go of. We’re a team, baby, no matter what.

I wanted to say something else to you too, before I forget. The only thing that matters is your heart, darling. Your weight, your height, your beauty, nothing really matters. All that matters is the love you have, and the love you give. Beauty is a fleeting thing. All those magazines you will see, and every second person you meet will try to pound it into your head, that trivial things matter. But trust me, they don’t.   All I want on my epitaph is that I was loved and that I loved. With all my heart. And I hope you remember me that way some day, even after am gone.

Love you. Today. Forever.

Amma

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