I remember when I was turning 10, I was very excited. 10 seemed like a very huge deal-- an achievement. My age now has two digits! I remember the feeling of pride when people asked me how old I was and when I say 10, I hold up all of my fingers. Not a single finger left out. I was happy. I felt so grown up. As if being 10 meant I held a huge gap of seniority over those who are 9. Two digits! I told you that as well. I said, Gab, aren't you excited? Your age is gonna have two digits! Adults do that all the time to kids, I guess. They would disillusion a child to be excited about something that is really hmm, normal. When I told you that, you just gave a shrug. Meh. As if to say, Naturally! After 9 comes 10, is it not? A forehead scrunch and raised eyebrows suggested my confusion. What kind of child are you? And then a sigh of relief, because I am reminded that you are not like me and that's a good thing.
However, allow your mother to be excited. It is a big deal! 10 years and I still cannot figure out how did I ever get to be so lucky to have you. While I know the biological answer-- I can't, for the life of me, say how you have grown up to be the way you are. I have failings in so many ways and this parenting uhm, style? I don't think there's a style, we just live. It's very unconventional. I do what I can and what I can't, we just-- I don't know. Let it pass, wait for the next day, see what's to come. But still, you didn't turn out so bad. The coolest-- albeit a little annoying-- kid I know! Many people must have prayed so much for you, if not for me. I do too, in the few moments that I pray, I am grateful for you. And I pray that things won't be too cruel to you. I pray for protection over you and for you to always have a smile on that is such a miraculous healing balm. My dearest boy, what would I ever do without you?
The next 10 years won't be easy. All parents have horror stories of when their kids become teenagers. I would know. I was a teenager and not a good one. I guess, for the next decade, I'll be at the edge of my seat. But I shouldn't be too worried because you are not me. Thank God (capital G)! I am not sure what to expect but know that you have me. I can't solve every problem in the world and more often than sometimes, I become functional only after coffee but hey-- you have me. You don't really have a choice, though.
I only hope you won't detest life too much and then me for bringing you into it. I won't have a solution, but hell-- detest it. Complain. Be restless when things are wrong. Don't just smile and accept even when you are compromised. Live a brave life. Chase your dreams, so I can precariously live through you. Just kidding, live however you want to, kid. Just don't give me a headache.
I am actually excited. Who knows how you'll turn out to be? I won't bet on something big (because pressure = not good). Although it would be really really really nice and convenient for your Mama if you'd want to be, I don't know-- an architect? A doctor? An astrophysicist? We'll talk about it over cake.
I love you most Gabriel, anak! Happy 10th Birthday!
(oh my god, two digits. i am not emotional)
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