Dear Mama,

I may be a kid, but I know your heart is hurting. I’ve heard you talking about school, I’ve seen you watching the news and frowning at the words on your phone. And even though I don’t really understand all of what’s going on or why, I hear the worry in your voice. You look at me funny sometimes, too, with this sad sort of sigh in your eyes.

You’re worrying about me, I think.

You’re worried how I’m going to handle a school year I keep hearing everyone say will be “different.” You’re worried I’m not going to like it or that I’ll be afraid or that I’ll hate going.

Please don’t worry about me, Mama.

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See, I’ve been watching you these past few months, when so much of our “normal” life has been anything but. And you’re not giving yourself enough credit.

From way back before I can even remember, you’ve made me feel safe and you’ve made me feel loved. I think that must be what God whispers to moms and dads when He gives them a child: Love him. Keep her safe. 

You’re doing that, even when you don’t realize it, you know? 

When you pushed our table against the wall last spring and set up a “school” for me in the kitchen.

When you spread a picnic blanket out on the living room floor for a take-out picnic every Saturday night.

When you ran through the sprinkler in the backyard with me until the sun went down.

When you helped me write real letters with stamps and envelopes to the friends I’d been missing for so long.

When you watched YouTube videos with me even though I know they drive you a little crazy.

When you read me an extra book at bedtime and laid with me just a little bit longer until I fell asleep.

You make me feel loved, and I know with you, I’m always safe.

Mama, your heart is hurting and that makes mine ache a little too.

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But as summer winds down and you try to make decisions that will keep me safe and help me thrive, I want you to be sure of one thing: I’m going to be fine.

I’m resilient because your love has given me roots—and the confidence to fly through uncharted territory.

This school year may not turn out to be what either of us would have wanted. But I’m brave and I’m strong and I’m ready.

I’m yours, after all. 

And that I know that for sure.

Love,

Your child

 

Carolyn Moore

Carolyn traded a career in local TV news for a gig as a stay-at-home mom, where the days are just as busy and the pay is only slightly worse. She lives in flyover country with her husband and four young kids, and occasionally writes about raising them at Assignment Mom