Life is not always going to go as you had planned- tides change and things go in different directions. You can't stop the waves from happening, but you can learn to move with them. They may not take you in the direction that you had planned, but they will take you exactly where you are meant to be.
(Bryan Anthony)
Last weekend my daughter performed in her first play. It was Finding Nemo Jr, part of a week-long park district camp that she attended with five of her friends. Being the big dreamer that she’s always been, she had her heart set on being Nemo. But as one of the younger kids in the cast, she was given a much lesser role, well actually dual roles: A fish (named Fisher) and a seagull.
She looked adorable in her costumes and nailed her two lines:
“Oh no! Where did everyone go?”
“Oh boy! I can’t wait to start learning!”
And she was absolutely adorable as the first of many seagulls coming together to chant in unison, “Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!"
I sat in the balcony, keeping my eyes glued to her and her friends whenever they were on stage. I was proud of her and so happy that she has found something that she enjoys doing.
Ever since she was little, we've known that performing may be her niche. She just seemed to have “it”, as well as the confidence to pull it off. Even before she could walk, she’d stand against the TV stand and shake her hips to the music of Disney shows and movies, as well as the theme songs of our grown-up shows, Law & Order: SVU, The Big Bang Theory and New Girl.
And as we know all too well, she has always been fearless to sing along to every Taylor Swift song, even if she wasn’t yet able to properly pronounce some of the words.
She is someone who doesn’t mind the attention, unlike myself, who would only be comfortable with it playing on a soccer field or basketball court with teammates or reading a pre-written speech in front of a crowd. Singing, dancing, and acting, those are far from my talents, interests or hobbies; but my kid, she seems to be made for the spotlight. Or at least for now, on a local theater stage in front of an audience of other parents, family members, and friends since I forbid her from falling down the rabbit hole with a YouTube page or TikTok account.
As the performers took their bows to end the show, my eyes surprisingly began filling with tears.
Now let me say that I really don’t cry a lot, which I’ve come to see is an inner issue of being in survival mode all these years. But in that moment, the tears continue to build up and slowly fall down my cheeks. As I looked at my daughter, dressed as a fish in a red t-shirt and headband fit with eyes and fins, I couldn’t stop thinking about the many roles that she has played in my life over these last eight years.
My Daughter.
My Sidekick.
My Mini-Me.
My Cuddle Buddy.
My Shopping Pal.
My Little Swiftie.
My Strength.
My Rock.
My Angel on Earth.
Being her mother has given me an inexplainable sense of purpose and the truest reason to keep going, keep fighting, and as Dory says, “(just) keep swimming".
The one thing I've had to do all these years is to keep swimming. Honestly, I didn’t feel like I had any other choice, because the reason I was swimming in the first place was that my family needed me to.
At times the water was so cold, dark, and deep. I was stranded in a new place, one that I had never even considered being in, especially not at this phase of my life. But I was suddenly there.
Most of the time I had absolutely no idea what direction I was swimming, let alone if it was the right direction for me to go.
I hoped and prayed for guidance, but unlike the animated movies, obstacles aren’t overcome through rhyming songs or magical talking creatures that know the fastest way to go.
There was neither a compass nor a map, but really should be. No signs showing the way to go or any warnings of what you may come across along the way. Instead, you find yourself swimming in the same circle, feeling more lost, confused, tired and alone.
Every now and then, I’d come across a fellow swimmer, whose own route intersected with mine along their similar journey. It always helped to connect with someone who understood the weight of these struggles and this life-changing adventure that would forever bond us. Yet, when our chats ended, I’d be stuck with the feeling that we were still alone, separately facing each day in our homes trying to keep our loved ones afloat, and really ourselves. The captains of the family, who felt they were sinking more than swimming as the life they came to know continued to fall apart.
But as much as I’ve struggled, I’ve also gotten stronger. It’s what happens when you’re trying to survive and giving up isn’t an option. After all, I wasn’t swimming for only myself. I had others who needed my tired fins to keep moving.
Resilience and perseverance, they helped, as did lots of hope and patience, and maybe even some stubbornness as I knew the fight was worth it. This wasn’t something I could throw the towel in for. I knew the truth, and that required all of my effort and love.
But there was someone else who really kept me swimming, no matter how high and unpredictable the waves were. She was alongside of me the entire time, well, at least these last eight years.
My daughter has been My Co-Captain.
She is also the light that showed me the path to travel and the courage to keep swimming towards my next unknown destination. As
much as I wish I knew where this whole adventure was taking us, it comforts me to know that I’m not alone. She’s supported me just as much as I have raised and guided her.
Where would I be without her?
Would I feel even more lost?
Would I have even been able to swim this far without her next to me?
And that realization is what created the waves of tears that fell from my eyes as she smiled brightly on stage during her first-ever bows.
Thankfully, I’ll never have to know as we will keep swimming along together, as far and long as this journey is.
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