Happy Birthday

Tuesday, Mar. 15, 2011-
Frail Beauty.
Do not touch it, you will only disturb it.
Do not attempt to change it, you will only ruin it.
Just gaze upon it with awe and let it be.

Two swans floated on the water gracefully as I stood there on the deck looking out on the pond waiting for school to end and for the time when Nicolette would arrive. I always joked that if I didn't have the tranquil beauty of this sanctuary in the back yard I'd probably be an afternoon drinker instead.

I looked down at the bouquet in my hands. The flowers were large and white, with majestic petals and round yellow patches in the middle. I picked them for her. I glanced impatiently at my cell phone. 20 minutes until school was over. I imagined her walking into the house and seeing the flowers along with her birthday card ..

She would strut into the kitchen in exactly half an hour. She never intended to be unappreciative, but she was always casual in her reactions, and hard to impress. She lived in her head. Rituals and social formalities don't really matter there. I really loved that depth she had. I knew this even though not a lot of that depth had ever really been revealed to me. Like the time she won a national writing award and didn't tell me . I found out from the school. She didn't think it was any big deal . She was introspective, secretive , humble, brilliant, and far more capable that I was at that age. This line of thought made me oddly nervous, and I tried desperately to shake off the preposterous feeling of inferiority that had come over me so suddenly.

I thought about what she would wear to her birthday dinner. I knew her closet like the back of my hand. Everything was a jumbled mess, which always led her to choose from my orderly color coordinated closet. Genetics had been kind to render me the same size. The outfits she wore reflected her moods. When she wore over-sized sweats, for instance, I knew it was because she had PMS and was feeling self-conscious . I always made sure to tell her how great she looks on those days. When she wore skirts with tights and black ballet flats and silver jewelry it meant she was feeling confident. Jeans, t- shirts, boots, monochromatic navy blue and grey clothes , meant she wanted the comfort of conformity. And then there was her favorite clothing item: A black cashmere sweater and a pair of faded jeans with rippoed-out knees that she had picked out with a gift certificate that Jay had bought her on her last birthday. It was her favorite thing to wear and she always saved it for occasions that meant a lot to her. I loved her in that outfit, for many reasons, the least among them was that it reminded me again of Jay's infinite generosity.

To my secret dismay, she hated wearing girly dresses and didn't care for the color pink that I adorned myself with.

As I waited, I imagined her as she was over a decade ago, standing in the yard in a pretty pink dress, a little girl pointing at a butterfly ,and running into my arms.

Now that the kids are a little older, I�ve suppressed the urge for expressing deep emotions with words or overt physical displays . She wouldn't welcome that as a teenager, so I let them have that space. We express our love with subtleties , laughter, shared activities , gestures . The implied devotion between us didn't need to be verbally expressed.. I must admit that I missed the clingy displays of emotion that my son was comfortable with when he was little..we fostered each others mutual dependency. She was never quite so clingy even as a baby . In spite of her lack of being overly affectionate , I had fallen in love with my daughter from the moment she was born, for the very person she is . She is a multi-layered puzzle and I had to work for every bit of knowledge or affection. I enjoyed the game and the chase. I saw the beauty in her complexity.

It was time to pick them up.

He ran out to the car , all smiles and enthusiasm, anxious to tell me about his day .

She sauntered out of the school doors 5 minutes later, unapologetically glancing at the car, ignoring me as she continued chatting with friends. I was not concerned. Her head was lost in her own cerebral world in the clouds again, where time was irrelevant. I smiled. I would wait. She was worth waiting for.

Happy Birthday Nicolette

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