Why do we hold on to the things we do?
by Dream Quester
My mom gave me a baton many years ago for Easter. I still have it. It has always symbolized the connection she wanted to have with me. Aside from reading and some crafts, we deviated from there. She wanted me to be the daughter who wore dresses, was a Brownie and fully embrace my feminity.
I was a rebel. Argued with my friends as to who got to be Captain Kirk, Batman in our fantasy worlds. Loved to get dirty, wanted to be a firefighter or an electrician. I would scream as she would put a dress on me.
The baton, we could connect. She showed me how to twirl it. She wanted to connect more than just with reading. She wanted to teach me how to sew. I balked. I wanted to be different, not like everyone else. I cursed as bad as a longshoreman they told me. I was seven.
The baton, she shared a part of her childhood with me. In adulthood we shared a love for shopping, jewelry. Today I wished I would have let her teach me more. Now she struggles to crochet a scarf that isn’t crooked.. She sewed quilts for my siblings and myself out of my dad’s t-shirts when he died. That was 7 years ago. Now she puts an edge on a piece of material and that is sewing. Growing up she made our clothes. Shirts, pants, shorts, dresses, blazers.
The baton, a connection to the woman who wanted me to expand past my own interests. To experience something even if I didn’t like it. She has given me so much. She has taught me so much.
I try not to hold on so tight, to let go to be able to move on. The baton, I will keep.
My mom gave me a baton many years ago for Easter. I still have it. It has always symbolized the connection she wanted to have with me. Aside from reading and some crafts, we deviated from there. She wanted me to be the daughter who wore dresses, was a Brownie and fully embrace my feminity.
I was a rebel. Argued with my friends as to who got to be Captain Kirk, Batman in our fantasy worlds. Loved to get dirty, wanted to be a firefighter or an electrician. I would scream as she would put a dress on me.
The baton, we could connect. She showed me how to twirl it. She wanted to connect more than just with reading. She wanted to teach me how to sew. I balked. I wanted to be different, not like everyone else. I cursed as bad as a longshoreman they told me. I was seven.
The baton, she shared a part of her childhood with me. In adulthood we shared a love for shopping, jewelry. Today I wished I would have let her teach me more. Now she struggles to crochet a scarf that isn’t crooked.. She sewed quilts for my siblings and myself out of my dad’s t-shirts when he died. That was 7 years ago. Now she puts an edge on a piece of material and that is sewing. Growing up she made our clothes. Shirts, pants, shorts, dresses, blazers.
The baton, a connection to the woman who wanted me to expand past my own interests. To experience something even if I didn’t like it. She has given me so much. She has taught me so much.
I try not to hold on so tight, to let go to be able to move on. The baton, I will keep.