Tomorrow my D will walk out the doors of Lindbergh High School and her life will take her on a new journey. So I write to her with love and pride in my heart.
As this chapter of your life is about to come to a close and
you embark upon the next great chapter of your life—college—it seems only
fitting to reflect a bit…with a joyful heart.
You came into this world a wee bit before expected with
haste and a challenge. Your strength to
persevere started the moment you struggled to take those first breathes of life
and has continued. Although you have
tested the waters of every ounce of patience I possess—I came to see clearly
that was your way of showing that you wanted to come out on the top of every
adventure you tried your hand to. That
the bar you set for self achievement was above what others expected of
you—always the consummate (over) achiever.
Like all those with fire in their soul; bumps and disappoints
along the way were no stranger to you.
You were blessed to, and chose too, surround yourself with people who
taught you to pull yourself up by your bootstraps, never blowing sunshine up
you tail and to carry on. Whether it was
dad teaching you to ride your two-wheel bike—with every crash to the concrete
or wobbling jumps to the grassy easement, you took to the task over and over,
slapped a band-aid on the scuffed knees and elbows and persevered till perfect
balance was acquired. Of late it has been
Mr. Hutson who has insisted that the marking of one judge should never be the
mark of your overall talent—to just warm up those God given vocal cords and
sing, sing, sing! All the while I stood close by cheering you on…your best
cheerleader, your believer!
I knew you were destined for all things musical as you rode
through the grocery store at age three singing Peter, Paul and Mary’s Lemon Tree for all the shoppers to
hear. I knew the moment you starred as
Scrooge, bellowing out song in the fifth grade Christmas musical. I knew it
when you played the piano. I loved when
you mastered playing the Charlie Brown theme song, or my favorite, the theme
song from Pride and Prejudice. Your
musical gifts melt my heart (even if I bought you a piano with a headphone
option for silent practice playing). I
should have known when Mr. Hutson named your seventh grade solo/ensemble
quartet, “The Diva Quartet”, which garnered a one rating, that you were good, even in middle school…so good it
repeated itself in eighth grade. Vocal
music was calling your name. I learned
over the years to grit my teeth (and occasionally lose my patience) to your
crabby self on recital and competition days, knowing it was your inner beast
trying to fight the nerves and your personal high expectations. I learned to accept if your nerves where to
strung to allow me in the room to hear you perform—listening ever so contently
with my ear pressed to the crack in the door. I’ll never forget your college
audition day, the GPS talking us to the unknown, your dad frustrated as he
drove in the wrong guided direction and you bellowing out a song in German in
the back seat while a CD piped out the piano music at ten thousand
decibels. I guess I should have known
that crazy moment would have offered you the confidence boost you needed and
your acceptance into the School of Music.
While this final year of high school has been [what you
viewed] as the test to your self esteem and talent…from the part you were
overlooked for in the school musical, to the two rating you received on your
solo at Solo/Ensemble, never let those moments be the breaker to the many
accolades you did receive. You managed
to show that you DO possess talent of great measure. The trio you put together for solo/ensemble
reaped a one rating and a Japanese song that quickly has become your “party
trick.” The State Thespian quartet
earned a superior rating and took you to the state capitol to be honored—you my
child are one of “MY Nine Favorite Things!”
On May 28, you will be draped in cords to show all your academic
achievements and that is nothing to sneeze at either. There are so many more moments of pride which
outweigh the disappointments.
Demi, as you set out on a
new journey life is sure to have more bumps along the way and sometimes it is
hard to see past one’s own tear filled eyes to see all the light shining
through the dark tunnel, but remember when moments in your future don’t seem to
go as you hope—that stars shine only in the dark sky. You my child are destined to be a star! As you sang to me on Mother’s Day—you are
“Never Far from Home.”
Pick the lyrics for your life and SING! Sing for all to
hear.
