Sunday, June 8, 2008

When she was just born, her big eyes contemplated the world, taking in the sights, the sounds, the smells. She wore those cute little dresses, socks with lace, shoes with bow ties that Mommy had so lovingly picked out for her. She giggled in delight as Daddy bounced her up and down in the air, riding proudly on his shoulder: Daddy's little girl.

When she was one, she took her first steps, never discouraged, collecting bruises of all colors along the way. She held Mommy's hand as she was sent off to nursery school, big blue eyes pleading to just take her home, not to leave her in this room of strangers. Her stubby little legs carried her as fast as they could go in a game of tag with Daddy, somehow always winning.

When she was five, she stood in front of the school gate, filled with apprehension as she looked at all the other little kids being dropped off by their mommies and daddies, clutching Mommy's hand tightly, seeking security and warmth. She carefully traced her way through her first alphabet book, Daddy's big steady hand holding her small tiny ones, each letter being traced over in No. 2 pencil.

When she was ten, she graduated from elementary school, her diploma and class picture proudly framed above the fireplace. She asked Mommy to stop calling her by her pet name, she started calling Mommy Mom, saying that 'all the other kids did it'. She begged and pleaded Daddy for her first piercing, admiring the pretty dangly earrings the other girls wore, striving to be like them.

When she was thirteen, she graduated from middle school, gave her graduation speech in front of a sea of listening ears. She spent her last carefree summer in the pools, malls, theaters, with her friends, rarely spending any time with Mom. She started calling Daddy Dad, saying that she wasn't 'Daddy's little girl' anymore, that she was a big girl now. She discovered makeup; layers of eyeliner and mascara overshadowing her once innocent blue eyes. She discovered the 'cool clothes'; mini-skirts barely covering one third of her legs, shirts with a low front to reveal just a shadowy hint of cleavage. She discovered the basic survival skills to make her way through high school; make a few best friends, befriend everyone, bitch about those you don't like.

When she was fourteen, she entered high school, idolized the seniors, flailed under schoolwork, climbed the social ladder rung by rung. She no longer asked Mom for help or advice, no longer played any games with Dad. She immersed herself in sports, struggled to maintain her grades, got her first serious boyfriend. She finally found out who were her true friends and who were just bitches. She held her head high, regardless of what pain she hid underneath that perfect face. That perfect face; on the outside she was the girl to be, yet on the inside, she was sinking. Stress. Emotions. Life was hard.

When she was sixteen, she started her junior year, already preparing herself for the nights of studying, preparing herself to accept the reality that her social life would be depleted to about nil. AP classes took over her life, doing well on the SATs were her only goal now. Her friends all seemed to make life look so easy, was it just her that felt it was too hard? Or were they hiding behind perfect faces? Mom was just a distant thought now, always supporting her from the background, but never seeming to be a major fixture in her life. Dad was always caught up in his work, never seeming to be paying attention to her.

When she was seventeen, college was waiting up ahead with outstretched arms. Senior year. She finally found the chance to pull her head out of her books and take a look around. She drank in all she could, trying to cram in all the memories of her hometown. She realized, with shock, that Mom had changed. Her once golden hair was now streaked with grey, wrinkles had claimed seats on her face, she no longer seemed to have a spring to her step. She realized, with shock, that Dad had also changed. His world seemed to revolve around work, she rarely saw a smile on his lips, his eyes were heavy with stress. She realized, with shock, that she would soon be leaving Mommy and Daddy, all the memories came rushing back. She regretted the time when she never spent enough time with Mommy, she regretted the time when she told Daddy that she wasn't 'Daddy's little girl' anymore.

When she was twenty-five, she was engaged, planning out her wedding to that perfect guy, her Mr. Right. She was caught up in the sweet kisses, the romance, the reality, and she never gave a second thought to her parents. The very parents who had always been there for her, whether she pushed them away or embraced them. The wedding day came, and she realized, with a jolt, that the Daddy that would be accompanying her down the aisle was no longer the smart and strong guy she had admired when she was little. She stood at the alter, next to the guy she planned to spend the rest of her life with. And she realized, with a jolt, that the Mommy crying tears of joy in the first row was no longer the beautiful Mommy who she had always strived to be, no longer the Mommy who's every move she carefully studied.

When she was thirty, she was enjoying her marriage to that perfect guy she had married five years earlier, when she gave birth to a daughter. And she realized, that soon she would be 'Mommy'. Soon her daughter would stop calling her Mommy, soon her daughter would discover makeup, cool clothes, love. And she would be pushed to one side, helplessly watching her daughter struggle through life, knowing that everything she felt was what her Mommy had once felt.

Labels: Writing

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