Dear Mami,
I wrote this letter to compensate for all of the times I failed to say it aloud. You know I’m terrible with words in person, but maybe they will start to take life on paper.
Thank you for listening to me every time I have a new concept to share with you. You embraced my Sesame Street years. You thrived during my Twilight phase*. Whether it’s acting out my latest biochemistry lecture or pouring my heart out over a relatable post, you always find a way to be excited over my antics. You’ve never discouraged my interests in literature or science. You’ve allowed me to grow into my own person, albeit a bit sheltered. Maybe that is where we have become so different.
At my age, you were picking out my first blankets and dresses. You became the protector. Working until the day I was due in order to afford staying at home with me for as long as you could. You knew how to manage your time, set your priorities, and work through all of the emotions. I can no longer pretend that all to-be-moms become Superwomen overnight. There are nights where all you want to do is cry, but you were strong enough to lift yourself back up, push through, and look forward. You were able to do this for nine months straight, and then for every year after. So far, it’s been over twenty years and I’ve yet to see you lose sight of your spirit.
I take this for granted every day I do not call to say I love you. Instead of sending you a “good morning mami,” I text you in tears over how hard life is getting. But while I am pulled apart by my lukewarm career decisions, you were pulling yourself together in a new country. You dedicated yourself to morning and night jobs throughout the week, English classes on the weekends. You were fueled by your love for learning and family back home. There were setbacks, of course, but they never did catch up to you. Despite my sharp tones and heavy eyes, I look up to you, because you are my light. You embody the type of person I may never be: perseverant, selfless in action, and content with what you have worked to build up. You have your moments, but so does every person in a position of responsibility. As a teenager, I retaliated when you didn’t speak realistically. Now I see that your optimism is nothing to be overlooked.
We don’t give you credit for all the intangible dreams you’ve made into our realities. For giving us the gift of a life and the love of a family. Mami, as much as you used to comment on my kind behavior, my affinity for music, and my desire to help with my little sisters, I am not a perfect daughter. There is so much I wish I could take back over the years. You taught me that regret cannot solve much, that I must learn from my mistakes and build back up. I hope that this is a first step towards building back up. Despite any indifference or malice that I may have shown you as I evolve from niña to señorita, I love you. I appreciate you. And thank you always for being mi quierida mamá.
Un abrazo muy fuerte,
Tu Katita
*I’m still sorry that the picture of you and Taylor Lautner never came out on our old camera. Thank you for waiting an hour with me to meet him that one day on Main Street.
