Broken Corset

I watched her from behind…  my 7 year old, as she stood next to our blow up back yard pool and told her daddy exactly how important it was that we have ice cream after dinner.  Her body language conveyed she was not to be moved, despite the chill in the air and the goosebumps on her naked body.  She had been readying for a bath, when Daddy teased her that maybe tonight wasn’t ice cream night after all.  I’m sure she was aware he was teasing, but on the off chance he wasn’t, she followed him right back outside.   As she made her point the stark whiteness of her rear end was nearly as strong a contrast to her tanned skin as her pointed delivery was to her father’s laughter.  It was a beautiful moment.  My daughter’s innocence and conviction coupled together in a single argument for ice cream.

Earlier today, I found out my fifteen year old niece received straight A’s for her second semester of highschool.  She gleefully posted her accomplishment on Facebook, and had quickly received feedback from several friends.  “Congratulations!  ha ha ha,” one such friend replied.  “ha ha ha?”  What happened to just, “Congratulations!”  Why do all my niece’s friends end their posts with “ha ha ha” as if nothing they have to say should ever be taken seriously?  Why do they trivialize their own thoughts? 

Once, these 15 year olds were perfect and innocent too.  But the world grabbed hold, and massaged, sanded, and chipped away at the edges of their persons, until now, at 15 – their 7 year old selves are hard to recognize – so smooth and homogeneous are all their exteriors.

Of course, the tower didn’t work for Rumpelstiltskin, and I have no illusions that I could ever keep my child separate from society….  nor would I really want to.  Life is for living – and there are so many experiences she needs to have to grow into the amazing adult I feel she is destined to be.  And even right now, in the midst of my melancholy, I can admit that most of the 15 year olds out there will grow a little more, and learn to stand a little taller, leaving behind the “ha ha’s” and hopefully figuring out what they believe in – taking back some of sharper edges society once stole.

 But tonight, as I head to bed, I think how sad it will be to say goodbye to the days when we are the only influence that matters.  When our love is enough to conquer all the demons.  When ice cream is worth fighting for, even when naked.  Tonight, I don’t want to let my 7 year old go.  It hurts to imagine it.  And there is no “ha ha ha” after that…  only a few tears.