Of course, she’d kill me if she knew in advance that I was going to write this (which is why I didn’t tell her in advance), but I went out to dinner with her last night, along with her mother and father and her Aunt, to celebrate her 15th birthday. I’m so stinking proud of this young lady I could pop, and I wanted to say something in the name of posterity in a place (the internet) that would outlive me.
She, along with her cousin ten years her senior, has been mentioned in two of my book dedications ) and a full essay about the eldest in my third) and, along with that Elder cousin, has played a significant role in all of my writing Pursuits that came through the dark shadows of my health issues that led to my “challenges” that she helped me refuse to be defined by.
It was this young lady who, when I was halfway finished with my first book and told her I was thinking about giving up the whole idea, demanded of me to finish that book whether anybody ever read it or not. Both of them are stubborn that way, and, for the life of me, I don’t know who could have possibly passed along that stubbornness trait the two of them carry around like Badges of Honor… but I digress.
The picture above is one of her favorites of us (and mine,) and it was taken on her first birthday. I have written elsewhere that all of my Grands call me Djiadji (sounds like jah jee), and everybody thought it was a great idea to hand her to me to hold while they pierced her ears; her mother figured it would be better that the poor thing grow up blaming me rather than her mother for inflicting that small amount of temporary pain on her. We laugh about it now, and- of course – she has grown to add piercings and has never held it against any of us.
Not long after she was born, I moved back to the Northeast from Texas, and about a year after that (sometime around when she was two), I took on the task of picking her up in the morning and bringing her back to my house to spend the day babysitting her and giving her extensive quality time with her great grandmother (my mother). This went on until she started Pre-K. We enjoyed frequent Djiadji sleepovers, along with her brother, and we were practically inseparable. Once kindergarten started after my mother had passed and my stroke moved me into her house, we remained inseparable and have been together daily ever since; by the grace of God, as of this writing, this continues to be the case.
Now that she’s in high school (saying that out loud makes me a little misty-eyed) I don’t see her every day anymore because, well, High School… but we live literally 400 steps away from each other-yes we counted it once when she was in second grade. And even though we see each other in person less, now, that tie that binds-as it remains with her older cousin, who I also see less frequently – is unbreakable and only grows stronger as the years go by.
The oldest of these young ladies, who has lived with me in my house or nearby for the first 11 years of her life, continues to tell me she “loves me whole big” and my young “little” squidge, having customized my name to “Yaj,” continues to part my company with a wave of the hand sign “I love you—pinky, index finger, and thumb outstretched… followed with “love you bye.”
When I look at them, I am reminded, even as they are now grown women, that children are the most precious gifts that can come from humankind, and the ability to watch them grow and mature is the greatest reward. I am as sure as I can be that their very existence is a constant reminder, or should be, that as long as there are children in the world, there will always be hope and – except for the teenage years – happiness and joy 🙂
I love you, Katie baby and Lil’ bit, with my whole heart.