Originally Posted on 15/08/2015
Dear Daughter,
The other day, on our way to the nursery, we started going through your routine there - starting with when we arrive there, when I kiss you before taking you off your car seat, walking to the door, appreciating all the squares and shapes on the pavement, going in and taking off your jacket, both of us looking for your picture in that little basket, then getting into your room and putting that picture up on the board for the carer. You helped me walk through the list. Or more like prompted me by repeating the words you had chosen with some benign wisdom. I paused at this moment and asked you what you do next? You paused too. I glanced at your face in the rear view mirror and our eyes met.
I could see in your big sad eyes that you were aware of the next step in that little dry run of ours. Presently, both of us mentally paused, pondering over the moment that confronts us every morning when I gently let go of your little hand, to make my way out of the nursery. The mirror between us was rear view, but the pain in your eyes was definitely in front of me and it was one I know so well. The pain of being left alone at what seems like the mercy of the wild world.
When that moment really arrived that day, you cried again. Not bemused by your favorite friend's cute gestures to lure you into her game. Not caring about the cuddles that the multitude of carers offered. Not looking even once at the breakfast options I pointed to. Just crying with all your little might to continue clinging to me.
I had to leave you crying, but I stuck around outside the door, peering in through the little glass window, making sure you were attended to. After a while you mellowed a bit and stopped looking at the door. That's when I left. The guilt of leaving you alone was still there but I know this is for you. I just hope you know someday that the desire to cling on - to you and to our morning and day together was mutual. But life needs you to manage being alone.
I remember my first day at school and the feeling of being left alone. I know I wailed just like you. And I remember having that feeling of being left alone at every phase of my life. The difference is, at some point I realised that its a universal feeling. The funny thing is everyone is alone and therefore we are all together in this feeling of loneliness.
You and your self are the best and only company you need to survive this world. That does not mean you do not need friends or family. That just means that even if you are left alone by some or all of them, you do cry but be ready to pick yourself up with all your strength.
The good thing about our morning routine is that these are temporary separations. I drop you off and can look forward to have you back in my arms later in the evening. I do not know how your little busy mind works at this age but I guess you do have some semblance of the clockwork nature of us parting and meeting.
One day, this assurance would go away and I might never return. I do not know if you would have read or comprehended this by then but even if you have, come back to this anytime that you miss me. My Dad couldn't leave the solace of a written word for me. I hope to avoid making that mistake with you and leave enough notes for you to not miss me,
Dear Daughter,
The other day, on our way to the nursery, we started going through your routine there - starting with when we arrive there, when I kiss you before taking you off your car seat, walking to the door, appreciating all the squares and shapes on the pavement, going in and taking off your jacket, both of us looking for your picture in that little basket, then getting into your room and putting that picture up on the board for the carer. You helped me walk through the list. Or more like prompted me by repeating the words you had chosen with some benign wisdom. I paused at this moment and asked you what you do next? You paused too. I glanced at your face in the rear view mirror and our eyes met.
I could see in your big sad eyes that you were aware of the next step in that little dry run of ours. Presently, both of us mentally paused, pondering over the moment that confronts us every morning when I gently let go of your little hand, to make my way out of the nursery. The mirror between us was rear view, but the pain in your eyes was definitely in front of me and it was one I know so well. The pain of being left alone at what seems like the mercy of the wild world.
When that moment really arrived that day, you cried again. Not bemused by your favorite friend's cute gestures to lure you into her game. Not caring about the cuddles that the multitude of carers offered. Not looking even once at the breakfast options I pointed to. Just crying with all your little might to continue clinging to me.
I had to leave you crying, but I stuck around outside the door, peering in through the little glass window, making sure you were attended to. After a while you mellowed a bit and stopped looking at the door. That's when I left. The guilt of leaving you alone was still there but I know this is for you. I just hope you know someday that the desire to cling on - to you and to our morning and day together was mutual. But life needs you to manage being alone.
I remember my first day at school and the feeling of being left alone. I know I wailed just like you. And I remember having that feeling of being left alone at every phase of my life. The difference is, at some point I realised that its a universal feeling. The funny thing is everyone is alone and therefore we are all together in this feeling of loneliness.
You and your self are the best and only company you need to survive this world. That does not mean you do not need friends or family. That just means that even if you are left alone by some or all of them, you do cry but be ready to pick yourself up with all your strength.
The good thing about our morning routine is that these are temporary separations. I drop you off and can look forward to have you back in my arms later in the evening. I do not know how your little busy mind works at this age but I guess you do have some semblance of the clockwork nature of us parting and meeting.
One day, this assurance would go away and I might never return. I do not know if you would have read or comprehended this by then but even if you have, come back to this anytime that you miss me. My Dad couldn't leave the solace of a written word for me. I hope to avoid making that mistake with you and leave enough notes for you to not miss me,
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