My Heartbeat

Twenty-one years ago this morning, my husband and I went to Santiago on a foggy morning. I remember a car accident that occurred because of lack of visibility on our way, in Milladoiro, just outside Santiago. But the sun was trying to break through, and it did, later. We went to the Sanatorium La Esperanza, where I had an appointment. My pregnancy had been programmed to be brought to a conclusion that day, because my due date had come and gone, and the baby was very comfy. So, on October 21, 1996, the doctors decided it was time for that baby to see the world that awaited it.

When I was brought upstairs, still groggy from the anesthesia of the caesarian, I couldn't connect the tinny cries with a daughter, yet there she was, waiting for me. That day my world changed completely. I acquired a daughter and became a mother. At first, it was strange and time consuming; this child required feeding almost continuously, including during the sacred night. But she learned to sleep at night, eventually she learned to eat different things, to sit and later to walk and talk. With each passing month, it became easier, both from being accustomed to the newness of a baby, and from her growing through the stages of babyhood.

Each stage conquered was a victory. I discovered I had little patience for babies, but that I liked to explain things to small children. Whenever she asked me a question, I tried to explain as well as I could, and not simply respond with a fairy tail. When she was tired and fractious, I explained why she had to wait instead of trying to comfort her with white lies. While there were many moments I simply wanted to slap her bottom and say, "because I'm your mother and I say so!", I tried to beat down my frustration and not do so. I tried to teach her to respect herself and others by putting herself in their shoes. I tried to teach her that not all rewards are immediate, and that some are so far off we may not realize when they arrive. I tried to teach her to do her best, because only that way can we know how far we can get. The stars require an effort; the pebbles on the ground can be touched at any time.

Today, she turns twenty-one. She is on the threshold of her life, trying to pick the correct path. She is a responsible, mature young adult, who seems to have her head on right. Her immediate responsibility is to finish her college studies, and that is what she is trying to do as well as she can. She knows she still faces many difficulties along the way to true independence, and I think she has the tools to overcome them. She has grown into a curious, conscientious person, who has principles and tries to stick to them. The world, however, may not always allow it. I just hope she can hang on to her youthful idealism long enough to be able to make the difference she wants to make. I hope the world doesn't treat her harshly, and that she can take it by the throat and turn her part of it around.

Happy birthday, Alex!