Beneath the Tattoos…

You know, I think about all of my children daily. I can’t turn it off. If I’m at the libray, I think of my third. If a basketball rolls into my line of vision, I think of my second. When Myth Busters comes on, I think of my last.


But my oldest child, my daughter…..when the world pops in panoramic hues, when the sun leaves behind a trail of colors, when the stars seem extra brilliant and the snow isn’t falling down, but rather swirling up….I think of her.

Just to see her… currently her hair trimmed in a lovely shade of blue, tattoos…each with a special meaning…many having to do with music, toting multiple totes and bags…each filled with purpose and determination, I can’t help but wonder….what adventure is she on in that moment. Her mind a maze, quietly but diligently, bringing the world around her into focus.

But its not the bigger picture that she sees. It’s everything in between. Somewhere, surrounded by the fog, a lighthouse beacon shines. Ignoring the fog, the tiny light in the distance becomes her magnet. From outside looking in, anyone would assume a person would be blinded by such fog. But not this one. Because this one knows, fog isn’t some nearsighted vision problem that can be corrected with glasses. This one ripped off, stomped on and burned those damn glasses at birth. This one sees the world in the full spectrum. And with the full range of human emotion at her disposal and her abilty to not only feel, but to articulate them on a dime, she’s a magnetic force surpassing even the strongest neutron star.

The way she picked up music, playing too many instruments to count, left me wondering if she was somehow channeling long dead musical composers. It didn’t matter if she’d never played a particular instrument, she had long mastered the art of playing by ear. Somewhere between mismatched socks, bubble gum and lighthearted sarcasm, she’d cornered the market on college scholarships.

And then, this one….this one who sees the world in all the colors of a Skittles bag…and then some……this one showed me WHY!

To Quote my very head strong daughter : “I’ve gotten criticism for this one particular “personality flaw” at least a dozen times over the course of my life: I have a hard time finishing what I started. This means pretty much everything from school, to hobbies, to crafts, or anything else. Well I’m here right now, telling you all why I’m PROUD of this flaw. It’s allowed me to learn and become so much. I can say that I have scholastic and hands on experience in: biology, public relations, marketing, entrepreneurship, veterinary medicine, drawing, painting, ceramics, sculpting, photography, equine care/riding, motor sports, crocheting, knitting, scrapbooking, hunting, cosmetology, retail management, restaurant management, cooking, clerical work, basketball, soccer, music (quick pause here – I play the piano, bassoon, saxophone, flute, oboe, and percussion WELL). There are a thousand other things I’ve done or tried but the list would go on forever. Because of this “flaw,” I have a certificate from an equine nutrition course. Because of this “flaw,” I received more scholarships than ANYONE else in my graduating class (simply because I volunteered myself in so many projects and activities it looked like I had no free time ever). Fun fact of the day: because of this “flaw,” I’m legally licensed to officiate weddings in the state of **** (if you don’t believe me, check out the **** Secretary of State’s website). I’ve learned more, done more, seen more, and experienced more than a lot of other people my age have. I’ve done a little bit of everything. I’m proud of the fact that I can say that I’ve done so much. I’m happy to be the person that I am today. If you can’t accept me for who I am, then there’s the door. ~ End Quote

And bam! I saw it! Not only is she absolutely CORRECT….but wow….she hit the nail on the head. Life isn’t about slips of paper that say you are qualified to do one…and only one thing…for the rest of your natural life. Life isn’t about taking only that ONE mapped out path. Life shouldn’t be constrained by imaginary boundaries. And at 22, she has plenty of time to explore paths unknown. Lord knows, I did. I’ve been everywhere from the Garden District in New Orleans (yes….I begged for an autograph from Anne Rice….literally camping on the sidewalk in front of her house, till the security guard brought me one …although, he probably signed it) to Biloxi Mississippi…where I saw my first casino….while sporting purple hair…., to the Arizona desert and the chaos of LA. I was blissfully lost somewhere in New York….the subway, is NOT my friend, and I’ve swam at the cape in Mexico. And for some reason having long been settled, married, running kids to basketball and band….I had forgotten how strong that pull was. It was insatiable! Dancing on Bourbon Street, with my giant purple top hat and purchasing a love charm….yes… it seemed legit…..sipping on my first hurricane….don’t even get me started. That was MY world.

So quickly I had tossed out those moments that had made my heart beat faster, with every breath. But then …I realized, I feel that still, but in a different way. I feel it through her. She’s an adventurous story, waiting to be told and I sit eagerly as a child at storytime, waiting for the thrilling climax to reach it’s peak. It’s like reading a Stephen King novel and having to stop at Chapter 10 because some idiot moron, who doesn’t give a CRAP that ‘HEY…I’m trying to READ here!!!’, rings the doorbell. She’s an endless arhymmatic poem or a novel I can’t put down. And I  positively can NOT  WAIT to read the next chapter…..

(I wrote this when you were 22…8 years ago. I love you beautiful girl).

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