P.S. I Love You

How beautiful are these?
How beautiful are these?

 

To the daughter we shall say, at 20 something darling, you shall look back at the dreams the 16 year old had set out for you, and wonder what the hell you’re doing. You will fail at friendships, lose yourself a bit too often, cry more than you can and laugh louder than your voice has heard. Boys will come, but they will mostly leave. Most times, you won’t give a hoot. A few will make your heart race. So fast. They will leave, almost faster love. There will be some whose laughter will forever linger in your vicinity. It will be unique and peculiar.  There will be others that will make you weak in the knees, others will make you smile when you think of them, but sweetheart, they will all mostly leave. Please forget about the one, there is no miraculous one out there baby-girl. Also, those ridiculous-baby-girl-pet-names will only sound as sweet from momma’s mouth. If you are lucky enough you will find that one who teaches you to be comfortable in your own skin, that one who will look at everything about you in awe. They don’t make many of those though. Someday he might look you in the eye and ask you if you are happy. I hope you are smart enough to know that maybe he tells of his own lack of happiness, or maybe just, he has learnt to listen to your eyes when you speak.

Then, then you shall smile with a mighty brilliance, and tell him, with creasing eyes and the all-famous nod of wisdom, beauty and sadness did make their own Romeo-and-Juliet, you know? 

But before all else, i hope you are entangled within the chemistry of a good book and your favourite author before you start learning how to define love. May you learn to appreciate the taste of an empty library and the seduction of flipping through pages of an old book before you come back home with scars and wounds of supposed heartbreaks.

Chances are you will have spent most of your life in classrooms and lecture-halls. Chances are, you might not like it much in there. You will realize, sooner than later, that you ought to come out of those rooms with much more than they shall give you. They might teach you about the inside of a computer system, and the layers of its body, as if you will not have enough problems figuring out what exactly you will be made of.

Some mornings you will feel like silicon, like the CPU chips. Because for some reason you will always need to keep running, and unfortunately for you, (or fortunately?) you just cannot shut down. Your mind will be one too many times, the transistors in the CPU. There’s millions of them running through your mind and more choices and decisions being passed through. Every.Second. Processes that need to be run. Programs need to be loaded onto memory, lest you forget! System calls you need to attend to. Time. Everything needs to be synchronized. Scheduling. Priorities. So much input, but output?

Oops! Its a deadlock! 

 

It’s not over yet. What you will be, is the computer chassis, richly coated aluminium with a lustrous finish barring all the ugly processor shit underneath your skin, which technically, is what makes you you. If you are able to engineer your own luck you will be a macbook, with the forbidden apple logo shining in the middle of the surface of the cover. I can only pray, Oh dear Lord i pray, that your heart shines even brighter than the apple logo of Steve Jobs. A computer is a beautiful thing you see, The branding, the casing and all the covers, and all you need to do is mouse-clicks and button-pressing but you know not of the mess behind those buttons. That’s what your beauty is, a covering to your real beauty and ugly of course, that not all shall be honored to see.

And talking of beauty, you will hear about foundation, foundations firm enough that will try to break you off your insecurities. They’ll tell you too about drawing your wing right on your little eyes. I’ll just sit back and hope those wings will help you fly. You might learn how to balance in stilettos but i hope you learn first how to stand on your own two feet, and rise, with or without heels. You will learn too, and if you take in my steps, with a tad fascination, how to cook, bake and even blend beauty on your face! Ah! This beautiful world of ours!

Darling, i will tell you about your grandmother. Oh Lord, how i pray that you keep her to see the offspring of her offspring. I will tell you of the tears that would silently drip on to the keyboard as thoughts of her crossed my mind. And what of the many times her OCD would drive me crazy. And those standards she kept for us that always had me falling. And of the many times i failed her, and of the troubles she endured with unduly patience. I will tell you of how marvelous of a being she managed to be, and even with all her beauty blended into wrinkles and tired laughter, i will tell you how perfect of everything she was. How she made it so easy to spell out mother into a love story like no other. I will tell you of the days when i would kneel in front of her on her prayer-mat before i left the house, and she’d raise her hand, place it on my head and blow to me both a prayer and a kiss. And with that, i was ready to take over the world, even with all the fragility that stood out on my bulging forehead. I will tell you love, that no matter what i am able to do for you, and with pride and failing tears, i will never be able to be half the woman she was.

You will reek of emotions. You will feel everything a little too deeply. Your body will smell of them, and they will debouch out of your eyes.  It will feel like you were made out of paper, and everyone around you was playing with matches, but you are clay, and there is no fire you will not be able to put out.

You will do things sometimes that you won’t want the world to know. It’s okay to be a little silly. Because no-one has it together baby-girl. We really are all just stumbling on the days of our lives as they come. Some will misunderstand you, mostly friends. You will not have many of those. They will tell you how to be you, and you will try to listen, eventually your heart will win. So don’t just make those mistakes, make them proudly. What else shall we laugh about on my death-bed? (P.P.S  We started a youtube channel! I know right! I didn’t see that one coming too. )

In your faith, you shall come to fail. Might miss a few prayers here and there. A little disobedience. But whatever you do, do not lose it.  Realize that God is the ultimate end, and to Him you shall ultimately return. That this worldly life, even with all its jewels, it will end. For you have a home far greater than this place. And every cell that holds you in place, He put it there. Laugh with Him. Cry to Him. Tell Him of your sorrows, and of your days, and of all that caused disturbance to your troubled soul. You will find in prayer what you seek so tell Him, for never shall you find a better friend 🙂

 

5 thoughts on “P.S. I Love You

  1. Couldn’t help smiling at the computer references. And it’s appropriately tagged Computer Systems lol <3 ^_^

Show me some love :)