Dear Melina,

I’m writing this as I wait for you at physical therapy. The original plan involved walking while you saw Ann, but once again, we have a hot and humid day, and my own joints—my hip especially—are giving me issues. So I sit here and wait for the words to come, and since you are a writer, you know that’s not how it goes.

*

Now I’m at Contemporoast with two other CCB members, and I can’t escape the reality: your birthday is right around the corner, and I have yet to write the yearly letter. The problem is, I’m not sure I have anything to say.

Okay, maybe that’s not the problem. It’s more that I don’t know what to say.

Yes, your mother, the one who says she always has thoughts, the one who shares wisdom and common sense as easily as she makes chocolate chip cookies, the one you so lovingly shush from time time, is devoid of words.

Why? Because I’m having a difficult time coming to terms with the idea that in a little over a year, you will be flying from the nest. You’re the baby, after all, and weren’t we supposed to have more time than this? Weren’t you going to hang around our house forever? Weren’t you and I going to sit and write together forever at our respective computers, our own version of parallel play?

Yes, I thought similar versions of these thoughts about your siblings, too, but since you’re the last to go, the pain will feel sharper and more pronounced, and I’ll likely hold onto it much, much longer.

As you know, one of the things I do a lot of when I’m not sure about what words to use is think, and as I sit here across from Meredith and next to Sharon, the music causing my toe to tap, the letter I wrote to your sisters on their birthday came to mind. In January, I experimented with AI to generate poems for the girls, and the results were interesting, to say the least. So two options immediately come to mind: do the same thing for you, or ask AI to write a letter.

The overachiever in me is alive and well, and I did both!

Before I give you my thoughts (see, I do have something to say!), I’m going to copy the results. First up, the letter:

Happy Seventeenth Birthday, my sweet girl!

It’s hard to believe how quickly time has flown. It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms for the first time, completely in awe of the beautiful little soul I was lucky enough to call mine. Now, here you are—strong, smart, thoughtful, and growing into the incredible young woman I always knew you’d become.

Seventeen is such a special age. You’re right on the edge of so many new beginnings, and I know it can feel exciting, confusing, and even overwhelming at times. But I want you to know that you are more than ready for all that’s ahead. You have a kind heart, a sharp mind, and a spirit that shines through everything you do. No matter where life takes you, those things will always guide you.

I’m proud of the way you carry yourself, of the way you think deeply, care deeply, and dream big. You’ve faced challenges with courage and handled them with more maturity than many adults I know. You inspire me every single day.

As you step into this new year of your life, I hope you continue to believe in yourself, trust your instincts, and never be afraid to speak your truth. And remember, you never have to have it all figured out—life is about the journey, and you’re doing just fine.

I’ll always be here for you, cheering you on, supporting you, and loving you unconditionally.

Enjoy every moment of being 17—you only get it once, and you deserve nothing less than happiness, laughter, and love.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I love you more than words can ever say.

And now, the poems:

“The World is Waiting”
Seventeen candles on a cake,
A wishful heart, a smile to make.
Bright dreams are woven in the air,
Each moment cherished, beyond compare.

Dancing days of laughter and cheer,
Growing wiser with each passing year.
Oh, youngest daughter, how beautifully you bloom,
The world is waiting, make room, make room.

“Words Like Stars”
Seventeen candles glow so bright,
Youngest daughter, filled with light.
Words like stars, she loves to chase,
Writing dreams with lovely grace.
A writer’s heart, a future’s art.

Dark tales fill her head
Vampires dance on birthday page
Writer’s heart takes flight

“Ode to My Vampire Scribbler”
My daughter, born this day,
With dreams of pale romance,
Of twilight’s softest ray.

A writer’s heart you hold,
For creatures of the night,
A story to unfold.

“Like the Morning Dew”
At seventeen, a wit sharp as a blade,
You craft your words with elegance and grace,
A daughter of the pen, both proud and bold,
With snark that sparkles like the morning dew.

Today we mark the year with joyful cheer,
As laughter dances through the air we breathe,
In every quip and every clever jest,
You weave your dreams, a tapestry of light.

“Melina”
Minds that wander, stories unfold,
Every word a treasure, a tale to be told.
Living in pages, her dreams take flight,
Imagination sparkles, a beacon of light.
New worlds she builds, both vivid and grand,
Adventurous spirit, with pen in hand.

What do you think? Honestly, the letter is a little generic, but overall, not bad, you know? Writing crafted by AI usually lacks something, and here, I feel its specific memories or characteristics or emotions I associate with you. But I didn’t put too much in the search box, so it makes sense. On the other hand, the letter touches on a few good bits of wisdom: “As you step into this new year of your life, I hope you continue to believe in yourself, trust your instincts, and never be afraid to speak your truth. And remember, you never have to have it all figured out—life is about the journey, and you’re doing just fine.”

As for the poems, I have a favorite, and I think you know which one it is. (As you like to say, “I’ll give you three guesses.”) None of them capture you, but I had fun seeing what someone else could come up with. What I’m truly looking forward to is when your stories are out in the world with you standing behind them, that sly smile on your face. I can say, “I’m her mom!” and tears will spill down my cheeks at how proud I am of you.

I am proud of you, Melina. And I love you. I like you. I wish you all the happiness in the world, the best macaroni and cheese, time off from joint pain, and no belly aches for a long time. I wish you cool breezes and soft sheets, moisturizing face creams and a plethora of chocolate oranges. I’m certain that this last year at home will be a huge year of growth because I’ve seen so much, even over the last few weeks.

Happy Birthday, Mimi. (I had to.) Ich hab dich lieb.

Love,
Mom

Image of cake and candle by Yonathan Ticoalu from Pixabay.com.