|
on Ada - 2004-07-10
Aren't I silly? I've named my first daughter Ada, after a senior I had, who was the kindest and nicest person I had ever met thus far. I wrote letters to Ada, little notes that I folded and kept for a few years before throwing them away. I made up little fantasies of how it'll be when she's old enough to talk and she asks me about things like life and the blueness of the sky and where the faeries have gone. I remember when I spent my first night in Perth. I was so lonely, but I refused to just curl up and cry, so I took out a piece of paper and started writing to Ada. I described how I felt, and I wondered if she would ever feel the way I did then, and I wondered if she would tell me, or if she would be too embarrassed to share that sort of thing with her mom. I wrote about my dreams, and I wondered what her dreams would be, and would I be understanding enough to let her persue them to the very ends of the earth. Then I wrote 'sometimes I wonder what I would do if my first child was a boy' and then I stopped. I don't remember what I was thinking after those words popped into my head, but that's where I stopped writing. And then I went through a whirlwind year of growing up, and suddenly, just this year, I thought of children, and I thought of my first daughter. And her name wasn't Ada. I don't know how it happened. One moment she was Ada and the next she was this person I didn't know at all. I tried to call her Ada, but the name was so unwieldy and it didn't fit her. I tried to imagine telling her about the pixies that dance on the leaves of trees, but she wasn't interested. I had a dream a few days ago, it must've been my subconscious trying to deal with this, and in it, my daughter didn't love me. Where did Ada go? I'm sorry, I know there are friends of mine who think I'm too young to think about this sort of thing, but I do. Ada Clarissa, you come back here right this minute, young lady!
- - 2006-05-29 |