Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Easter (05/30/05)
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TITLE: To Be or Not To Be Goth | Previous Challenge Entry
By Leticia Caroccio
06/03/05 -
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Taylor walked into the dinning room, slinked in the chair behind her dinner plate and sucked her teeth. With her lip curled in attitude she said, “Can we please just eat?” A chorus of teens sucking teeth joined in. This Gang of Depressed Beings, all dressed in black, were my daughter’s friends. As they each accepted a plate of food, they sat in silence and began to eat, never once looking at each other. I took a deep breath and did the same.
Here I was, having Easter dinner with this mysterious group of Goths, and I was quite intimidated by their silent darkness. I had so much to say, so many questions to ask. But I decided to choose my battle and this was not one of them. So I joined the silent ladies in black and ate my dinner in silence. My mind drew me back to a time when Taylor was born.
My labor was not long but it was difficult. Taylor was a bouncing baby girl of 10 lbs. She was stunning, with big beautiful hazel eyes and sweeping curly lashes that gently brushed her cheeks. Her rosebud lips were always pursed into a pout. I had such hopes and dreams for her then, as I still do now. I look across the table and watch her as she tosses aside the meat and only picks at the vegetables. I start to say something to her but instead I let my mind drift.
I see my little girl as she struggles to tie her shoes. The intensity on her face was impressive. I knew that she was a fighter. Taylor was always determined to carry things through, no matter how difficult things seemed. I have always said that Taylor is the child that I wished I could’ve been. She’s tough where I was weak; the defender of all lost causes where I tended to cower and run from confrontation.
As the Dark Beings begin to push themselves away from the moratorium that is the Easter meal, I look at my daughter. She is making it a point to look into my face. There is a smile on her face and a small light glinting from her eyes. She begins to clear the table. I smile back at her. She walks over to me and softly kisses my head and says, “Thanks for dinner but I couldn’t eat the carcass”. I start to laugh. Realizing that my daughter will be just fine, I remind myself that I must let her go.
I find myself sitting in the living room, along with my cup of herbal tea. I have my feet up on the ottoman and am listening to soft music when I hear my daughter and her friends come into the room. They begin to put on their black coats, still moving in utter silence. I say, “Taylor, remember your curfew”. She looks back at me, through smeared mascara-ed eyes and stares. Her look says a million words not yet spoken. “Mom, I may not be where I am supposed to be today but I am still on the journey” is what her stare said loud and clear. I concede and sip my hot tea. As it hotly goes down my throat I take a deep breath and bite my tongue.
It is Easter, a time of new birth, of new beginnings. It is a time when we remember the sacrifice of our Father, who lovingly gave His Son for us. His promises are true, as seen in His powerful resurrection. My daughter, like a butterfly is morphing into a young woman of substance; not in my way but in His way and in her own unique way.
Taylor is becoming who she is supposed to be. I have to sit back and let her make her mistakes and walk this journey, with all of its difficult roadblocks and forks in the road. If I am to survive these teen age years then I must learn to see each new day as just that: a new opportunity to see the light in my daughter’s heart, to see the struggle that I am confident she will win. I must continue to pray.
Taylor waves a black draped arm in my direction as she follows her friends in silence out the door. Though she did not notice it, I wave back and say a silent prayer for her.
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