More beautiful to be
The six-year-old will be joyful
She will enjoy butterflies, hugging random people at church, and when daddy gives underdoggies on the swing set
The saddest thing that will happen in her life up to this point is losing her favorite of two baby blankets at Disney World
The light pink with one with her name on it that daddy used to swaddle her little body when he tucked her in at night
But when she is eight, she will learn that cancer can make people die
Cancer can make Daddy die
And she will learn how not to cry because Mommy cries more than her
And one-year-old baby brother will cry because Mommy's crying,
But one-year-olds don't yet have the brain power to realize what "Daddy is dead" means
And four-year-old little sister will climb into bed and watch the kittens jump at an orb on the wall made by a flashlight
She will decide that big sisters are supposed to be strong
She will become the "strong one"
The nine-year-old will dread her First Communion day
She will wear a pretty white dress that makes her feel like a tiny bride
All the other little girls will be wearing "tacky veils" (Mommy's words)
She will make a crown out of soft, sweet smelling daisies instead
Daddy would have told her she looks beautiful
The twelve-year-old will cringe at the sound of ambulance sirens
She will be desensitized to the word cancer
She will decide to read Harry Potter because Dad read them when he was recovering from the Whipple procedure
And the thirteen-year-old will have nightmares of Mom with cancer
She will cling to her baby blanket because it’s something Dad touched
At this point, it won't be big enough to wrap her up anymore
She will beg God not to make her an orphan
But the sixteen-year-old will forget about God and make self-sabotaging choices
She will have five boyfriends between the eighth and twelfth grades
She will search for protection and comfort,
But they won't be content with just holding her
She will do things she doesn't want to, learning affection's most despicable form
She will be taught that she is unworthy of real love
Intimacy will become alarming
She will hear the Gospel for the first time at summer camp
About the man named Jesus in all the bible stories she grew up hearing who died so he could have a relationship with her
He will say that the bad things she has done don't affect how much He loves her
He will ask her to let him prove he can care for her
She will become His and discover that there is nothing more beautiful to be
The twenty-year-old will be caught off guard at her friend's wedding during the father-daughter dance
She will make misty eye contact with people in the crowd who will smile as happy tears roll down their cheeks
But she won't tell anyone why she is really crying because that would mean someone has to care for her and even though this is the thing she wants most in the world, it is too close and too hard and too real
She will look ahead to her own wedding and remember, yet again, that her dad won't be walking her down the aisle
She will imagine her step-dad having to physically hold her up during their father-daughter dance
She will cry out to her Heavenly Father and he will come
She will decide to write about all of this
She will write short stories with fictional characters that grow up without fathers
But then she will be challenged to write the truth for once
And once she begins, she will be unable to stop
Because the stories of growing up too fast and giving her heart and body to boys who don't deserve it and learning to let herself be loved need telling
She will also want you to know that growing up her wasn't horrible
***
This morning, like most mornings, I woke up in a frantic panic to find where my baby blanket disappeared to during the night.
Sometimes I find it on the floor
Others, tangled in the sheets by my feet
Today, I pulled it out of the crack between my bed and the wall
This morning, like most mornings, I wrapped it around my shoulders and shuffled downstairs to start my pre-dawn coffee routine
There's something beautiful about being awake when everyone else is asleep
My friends tease me about still sleeping with my baby blanket and ask when I'm going to stop
It's okay that they don't understand
They don't know that it has dried more than 20 years worth of tears
Or that it knows more secrets than they do
Or that while it is now too small for my grown up body, it gives me the same comfort that it did when I was six
Does it speak to my trust issues?
Maybe.
My abandonment issues?
Probably.
To the incredible fact that Jesus has protected the part of my heart that craves love and touch and intimacy after experiencing so much pain?
Definitely.
My repurposing project was based on a short story I wrote for a creative writing class my freshman year. Prayers for an Ambulance was written as an account of a young woman's experience of growing up after her father passed away. A couple facts within the short story were adapted from my real life experiences and the characters were roughly based off of my friends and family members, but it was, for the most part, completely fictional.
For my new argument, I chose nonfiction. I think it is easier to fabricate stories than to tell the truth, especially when the situations might be painful, but my writing professor challenged me to pursue honesty.
Before I actually began writing my repurposing, I had every intention of creating a personal narrative--something much like my initial short story, but in a nonfictional manner this time. However, when I sat down to take on the first draft, I looked up ten minutes later at my laptop screen at a free verse poem. My face was wet with tears, as it has been through much of the reflective process of remembering my dad, and my hands were shaking--I wasn't sure what happened. But when I read what I had just frantically typed, I found myself smiling.
Throughout the course of four drafts, multiple meetings with my professor and a brilliant staff poet at Michigan, and tons of help from my classmates, I now feel confident enough to share this with you.
It is raw, it is precious, it is my heart.
I hope it brings you Hope.
