Written for my eldest daughter on her 19th birthday.
Our children are space rockets, and we are their launchpads. By the time they leave us, they should have what they need for space flight. As their launchpads, we need all the qualities that this requires, and if we don’t embody them at the beginning of parenthood, nature makes sure to deliver them to us in spades along the way. Launchpads need gravitas, substance, stability, structure, and a solid platform for when the countdown begins, and our children’s rocket engines fire up into adulthood, releasing loving hellfire as they head for the stars.
Stay raw, ripe, wild and free sweetheart.
Think for yourself, be original and always play from your fucking heart.
You are my girl. You have been from the moment we met, and you always will be.
