To Maya, for graduation day
Dear Maya,
I am writing this at the kitchen table at 6 a.m., the same table where you did your chemistry homework over a cold bowl of cereal. You will read it on the day you graduate, so I already know how it goes: the gown will itch and I will cry before the music starts.
I am not proud of you because of the grade. I am proud because of the winter you almost quit and went to the library instead. I saw your light on.
Go and enjoy today. Dinner is on me, wherever you want, even the loud place.
MAKE IT YOURS