You're the big 1-0 this week and despite my best efforts, I will once again be away for the big day. We talked about it and in typical Micaela fashion, you're okay with it. (I did promise you an entire week of birthday starting when I get home, but still, I appreciate your understanding.)
If you've been reading back through my blog posts from the last 10 years, you'll notice that they've more or less stopped in recent months. That's because, as you know, I had to turn my creative energy to writing a book. It's also because you've become far more aware of your personal right to not have all your personal anecdotes and cute photos shared out on social media via my blog and facebook posts.
But I'm so happy I wrote all I wrote. Over the years we've gone for long walks in the woods, we've explored pre-school politics together, we've hung out with the Tooth Fairy, we've enjoyed many playgrounds and restaurants (including that time we re-enacted the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp), you've said many, many innocently wise things, and I've just generally observed you, agape, as you grew into the amazing person you are. I hope you feel lucky that so much of this has been documented for you.
I've gone back and read NONE of it because frankly I don't think I could (certainly while sitting in the Air Canada Lounge surrounded by a bunch of boring business people who would probably point at me and laugh once they saw I had tears streaming down my face). I hope you do though.
But it's time now that we leave this chapter of your life (and my life) behind. It's time I stop gushing about you publicly and sharing things without your permission. Unless, maybe, we start doing this together? (You gushing about me and sharing cute stories about me growing up?)
And since that's what this is...my last chance (before a wedding speech) to talk about you unedited by you...and given that it is your 10th and that's a big deal, I will make this a final (public) birthday letter. Then I'll find a new writing muse (not a puppy, hamster, guinea pig, ferret or llama - so don't bother asking) and share my thoughts about you with you privately from now on.
Here goes...
Micaela at 10: Smart. Hilarious. Deeply introspective (look it up). Generous to a fault. Messy as hell. Carefree - still dancing like no one is watching. Inundated with friends who all want to have her to themselves, and able to make each one of them feel like they do. Beautiful. Hard working. Independent, except when she doesn't want to be (a trait she shares with both of her sisters). Creative. Clumsy. Extremely resilient. Hates going to bed at any time in any circumstances. A burgeoning foodie and thus, a burgeoning expensive date. Just a lovely human being.
Your sisters, Mom and I certainly take some pride in the shaping-of-you that we've done over your first 10 years. It's been a five-person effort to make you who you are (since you probably had something to do with it as well). Somehow, though, it feels like we're reaching the point where it's going to be mostly you, supported by us, who takes it from here (in terms of continuing to grow into the person you'll become). I hope you're ready for that. It'll require lots of contributions from us, but on your terms. Asking for help. Pushing us away when we're getting in the way. We like to do that.
Advice?
Keep doing what you're doing. Always believe in yourself. You have tremendous instincts. Trust what they're telling you about people, about situations you find yourself in, and about life in general. You owe it to everyone else to share your point of view on things because you're a rare person and will have important insights that others won't.
Be a rock for people, because you can be. Accommodate others' needs because you don't mind doing that and helping others is one of the most important things you can do. Trust in people and make sure you are always someone they can trust.
But don't be a pushover. Look after yourself too. Be a rock for Micaela. Accommodate your needs. Help yourself. If there's a B+ on your personal growth report card (where everything else is an A+) it's in this area. And it's really important to keep an eye on. Don't be selfless in all things. Know what matters to you and fight for those things as hard as you would for someone else's things.
It's never going to be easy to be a girl (and woman, later). That's really too bad because it shouldn't make a difference in how you're treated, what you can achieve, and how hard it is to do so. If someone is making you feel like you're less because of this or anything else, that's not someone you should invest yourself in. You're not less. You never will be less. And you should never accept less.
An important secret to happiness is to surround yourself with people who know the secret to happiness, which is...wait for it... to always choose to be happy. Be happy with what you have. Find humour even in the bad stuff you go through. Make others happy. Make yourself happy. Be happy.
And be imaginative and silly and lazy (when it's time to be lazy) and hard-working when you're doing something that makes you happy or so that you can be happy, and irreverent (look it up), and deadly serious when it matters, and moody (but self-aware that you are) and completely contradictory in being described as all of these things at once.
Last thing: believe that you can be the absolute best a person can be: Set the bar that high. Then vault right over that bar with your feet flapping magnificently in the air, a smile on your face, a scream of joy in your throat, arms that are wide-open, and a mind that's actively taking it all in.
Let everyone else stare agape at your achievements as you show them how it's done.
I will always be there marvelling and looking for superlatives to express my inexpressible love for you. It's been a joy to share your first 10 years and I hope you continue to demand that I share the next 10 as well (not to mention the millennia after that).
Happy birthday my Micaela.
Instantly forgiving her when she pulls out her daughter's passport instead of her own when you're 3 cars from the US Border Services guy. (Note, this picture is a re-enactment of the look I gave her before flinging her daughter's passport to the floor of the car).
Putting a smile on your face while trudging a mile in sweltering heat, then another mile (uphill in slightly-less sweltering heat) before and after attending a concert you didn't really know you wanted to attend.
Setting aside your morbid fear of mosquitoes and abhorrence of the smell of weed to attend an outdoor concert you didn't really know you wanted to attend.
Gently and patiently explaining to your wife that James Taylor is not Cat Stevens just before attending his concert at Tanglewood.
Love is...
Love is...
Braving a haunted antique store, together (except upstairs, where there was definitely a presence, but not her presence because she refused to go up there with you).
Eating lobster together with bibs on and agreeing not to take any pictures of each other with bibs on.
Love is...
Being able to laugh at startlingly insightful fridge magnets without ever telling each other about whom they are insightful.
Both agreeing to try gizzards and sea urchins because that's what the chef sends you on his mystery table d'hote.
Love is...
Love is...
