Post by Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford on Mar 8, 2008 19:44:59 GMT
It was Madeleine’s birthday.
Being sixteen didn’t feel any different at all – she didn’t miraculously become taller (dammit), more mature, any of those other things. Sure, there were legal changes in her status, but nothing really to provoke them.
Everything was just the same as usual.
Madeleine sat on the steps of Orchid Hill Academy, a letter in her hand. This morning, a present and card had arrived from her parents. However, in the card, was a letter in a cream envelope, her name written on it in her mother’s elegant handwriting.
Her penknife was in her other hand, waiting to slit open the envelope. But for some reason, Madeleine couldn’t bear to open it, because she knew what it was going to say. Her mum was going to try and talk her out of the wedding, again. More angry, hurtful words would be written down in the black ink, the silver fountain pen spouting phrases of knives and flames.
She’d have to open it at some point, but Madeleine was still angry. Her mum should not have said what she had said, and yet she still had.
It had been a good morning so far – even though it was so early. Madeleine hadn’t even been in to breakfast yet. It was sunny – would you believe it? – and the day was just the perfect temperature, warm, but with a gently cooling breeze; Madeleine’s favourite weather. And she knew that the day ahead was going to be enjoyable… so she didn’t want to ruin it by getting herself riled up about her mother’s opinion.
Still, she wasn’t the type of person that could leave a letter unopened.
So open it she did, fingers hesitant as she pulled the letter out and unfolded the sheets, all covered in the black flowing handwriting.
Madeleine.
Thank you for the lovely Mother’s Day gift, and a very happy birthday, sweetheart. You’re sixteen now, and I’m wondering when you grew up.. It seems like only yesterday that you were learning to walk, and deciding to wash that magpie in the river. Or the day you discovered felt tip pens and drew over Shaun’s homework. I guess those days are long gone.
You’re sixteen now; you’re really getting too old. You can smoke now (not a good idea), or get a motorbike (don’t you dare), and you can get married, which you are doing.
I know that no matter how many times I tell you that I don’t want you to do this, you still won’t listen. You know what you want to do, and you’re going to do it. Shaun was like this as well.
I know you think that I’m being unfair, that I was fully supportive of Shaun’s engagement, but not yours – but that’s far from true. The reaction you saw was very different from the real one. Shaun told you about the wedding first, before he told us, and you were staying with your friend while he told us. I really believed that he was too young, that it would end in tears, and that he was making the wrong choice, that marriages that start at eighteen turn out badly. Not because I didn’t like Cecelia – of course not! You know how fond your dad and I were of her. I just thought that they were both too young. However, Shaun talked me round, because he was so sincere, and determined about it. Of course, this was after I said some harsh things about his motives for it. But I came around, and I became excited - and very, very happy for them both.
And then Shaun passed away. After that, although I felt indescribably sorry for Cecelia, I was glad that he had had the opportunity before what happened did happen. Then Cecelia killed herself to be with him.
It’s not that I’m not happy for you, Madeleine – I swear that it’s not. It’s just that I’ve lost one child, and if anything were to happen to Lee… well, you couldn’t see yourself when his memory was gone. After watching you like that, I can’t help but be scared that if something else happened to Lee, if (heaven forbid) he passed away, that you wouldn’t be long behind him. I’ve lost one child already, Madeleine. He died at eighteen. And Lois and Mark lost a child because the boy she loved died. They had barely left childhood, and they were gone.
And you, you say you’ve found the boy you want to spend your life with, at your age. You’re happy with him, and you’re going to marry him. And I’m glad that you’ve found that, truly I am – you don’t have years of pointless searching ahead of you. But Madeleine, I don’t want to lose you as well. Losing one child is far too much, it’s much too unfair. And it’s not only losing you – if you were in Shaun’s situation, and Lee then took Cecelia’s option, his parents would lose him as well.
Yes, you’re happy. Yes, you’re lucky. And no matter how much I would like you to wait, you’re right, there’s no point. But I'm scared because you've fallen in love so young. The thought of losing you terrifies me. You put your life at risk so often, and while I’m proud of you for standing up for your beliefs and for trying to make sure that the right thing will happen, it terrifies me. And this, to me, just feels like another way to lose you.
Your dad tells me that I’m being pessimistic, that I’m making assumptions that will probably never happen. He’s probably right. But in a way, even if this doesn’t happen, we’re still losing you. You’re only sixteen, and you’re going to start your own family, your own life, and you’re going to move out. And so, I’ve lost both of my children while they were still children. I just want a few more years.
But your dad and your nana both tell me that that is selfish – and I know they’re right. So I’ll give you my blessing, and – while I think you should wait – wish you all the best, and for all the happiness you could wish for.
I know I could have just phoned you to let you know that I’ve had a change of heart. But I know that you’re angry, and that you think that I disapproved for probably the worst motives, and I just wanted you to know why. It’s not that I think you’re too immature, because I don’t; it’s not that I’m trying to bubble-wrap you, though in a sense that could be true; and it’s not because I don’t approve of the person you’re choosing, most definitely not. I know that I don’t know Lee very well, but I know how happy you are with him, and that’s all I want for you. To be happy. And before you met Lee, you weren’t happy, not at all. You were pretending to be happy, sure, but you weren’t fooling us. And really, you didn’t have much to be happy about. And now that you’ve found a reason to be happy, I can’t begrudge you it.
So happy birthday, sweetheart, and I hope that there are many more to come. Happy engagement, and you can tell Lee that he’s welcomed to the family with open arms, and your nana wants you both to stay with her at some point over the summer. She’s really livid that you got engaged without her vetting your fiancé first. Oh, and she also ‘demands’ a picture of the two of you to show off to her book club. You know how competitive they all are about their grandchildren. Apparently being engaged trumps all, until you’re old enough to respectably have a baby in wedlock.
So again, Madeleine, I’m sorry for what I said to you – I should have been more supportive, and tried to explain calmly. But I lost my temper a little, something I shouldn’t have done. And it has taken me far too long to write this apology to you, and I’m sorry for the delay, but I couldn’t tell you that I’m giving you two my blessing until I really meant it.
Happy birthday,
Love
Mum.
Thank God.
Madeleine leaned back against the stone step behind her, sighing with relief.
She was okay… she was fine about it… everything was okay. The sky suddenly seemed a little brighter, a little clearer. Madeleine had never wanted to upset her mum, which was why this was such good news. She could go through with this without tears and anger …
It was all okay.
Being sixteen didn’t feel any different at all – she didn’t miraculously become taller (dammit), more mature, any of those other things. Sure, there were legal changes in her status, but nothing really to provoke them.
Everything was just the same as usual.
Madeleine sat on the steps of Orchid Hill Academy, a letter in her hand. This morning, a present and card had arrived from her parents. However, in the card, was a letter in a cream envelope, her name written on it in her mother’s elegant handwriting.
Her penknife was in her other hand, waiting to slit open the envelope. But for some reason, Madeleine couldn’t bear to open it, because she knew what it was going to say. Her mum was going to try and talk her out of the wedding, again. More angry, hurtful words would be written down in the black ink, the silver fountain pen spouting phrases of knives and flames.
She’d have to open it at some point, but Madeleine was still angry. Her mum should not have said what she had said, and yet she still had.
It had been a good morning so far – even though it was so early. Madeleine hadn’t even been in to breakfast yet. It was sunny – would you believe it? – and the day was just the perfect temperature, warm, but with a gently cooling breeze; Madeleine’s favourite weather. And she knew that the day ahead was going to be enjoyable… so she didn’t want to ruin it by getting herself riled up about her mother’s opinion.
Still, she wasn’t the type of person that could leave a letter unopened.
So open it she did, fingers hesitant as she pulled the letter out and unfolded the sheets, all covered in the black flowing handwriting.
Madeleine.
Thank you for the lovely Mother’s Day gift, and a very happy birthday, sweetheart. You’re sixteen now, and I’m wondering when you grew up.. It seems like only yesterday that you were learning to walk, and deciding to wash that magpie in the river. Or the day you discovered felt tip pens and drew over Shaun’s homework. I guess those days are long gone.
You’re sixteen now; you’re really getting too old. You can smoke now (not a good idea), or get a motorbike (don’t you dare), and you can get married, which you are doing.
I know that no matter how many times I tell you that I don’t want you to do this, you still won’t listen. You know what you want to do, and you’re going to do it. Shaun was like this as well.
I know you think that I’m being unfair, that I was fully supportive of Shaun’s engagement, but not yours – but that’s far from true. The reaction you saw was very different from the real one. Shaun told you about the wedding first, before he told us, and you were staying with your friend while he told us. I really believed that he was too young, that it would end in tears, and that he was making the wrong choice, that marriages that start at eighteen turn out badly. Not because I didn’t like Cecelia – of course not! You know how fond your dad and I were of her. I just thought that they were both too young. However, Shaun talked me round, because he was so sincere, and determined about it. Of course, this was after I said some harsh things about his motives for it. But I came around, and I became excited - and very, very happy for them both.
And then Shaun passed away. After that, although I felt indescribably sorry for Cecelia, I was glad that he had had the opportunity before what happened did happen. Then Cecelia killed herself to be with him.
It’s not that I’m not happy for you, Madeleine – I swear that it’s not. It’s just that I’ve lost one child, and if anything were to happen to Lee… well, you couldn’t see yourself when his memory was gone. After watching you like that, I can’t help but be scared that if something else happened to Lee, if (heaven forbid) he passed away, that you wouldn’t be long behind him. I’ve lost one child already, Madeleine. He died at eighteen. And Lois and Mark lost a child because the boy she loved died. They had barely left childhood, and they were gone.
And you, you say you’ve found the boy you want to spend your life with, at your age. You’re happy with him, and you’re going to marry him. And I’m glad that you’ve found that, truly I am – you don’t have years of pointless searching ahead of you. But Madeleine, I don’t want to lose you as well. Losing one child is far too much, it’s much too unfair. And it’s not only losing you – if you were in Shaun’s situation, and Lee then took Cecelia’s option, his parents would lose him as well.
Yes, you’re happy. Yes, you’re lucky. And no matter how much I would like you to wait, you’re right, there’s no point. But I'm scared because you've fallen in love so young. The thought of losing you terrifies me. You put your life at risk so often, and while I’m proud of you for standing up for your beliefs and for trying to make sure that the right thing will happen, it terrifies me. And this, to me, just feels like another way to lose you.
Your dad tells me that I’m being pessimistic, that I’m making assumptions that will probably never happen. He’s probably right. But in a way, even if this doesn’t happen, we’re still losing you. You’re only sixteen, and you’re going to start your own family, your own life, and you’re going to move out. And so, I’ve lost both of my children while they were still children. I just want a few more years.
But your dad and your nana both tell me that that is selfish – and I know they’re right. So I’ll give you my blessing, and – while I think you should wait – wish you all the best, and for all the happiness you could wish for.
I know I could have just phoned you to let you know that I’ve had a change of heart. But I know that you’re angry, and that you think that I disapproved for probably the worst motives, and I just wanted you to know why. It’s not that I think you’re too immature, because I don’t; it’s not that I’m trying to bubble-wrap you, though in a sense that could be true; and it’s not because I don’t approve of the person you’re choosing, most definitely not. I know that I don’t know Lee very well, but I know how happy you are with him, and that’s all I want for you. To be happy. And before you met Lee, you weren’t happy, not at all. You were pretending to be happy, sure, but you weren’t fooling us. And really, you didn’t have much to be happy about. And now that you’ve found a reason to be happy, I can’t begrudge you it.
So happy birthday, sweetheart, and I hope that there are many more to come. Happy engagement, and you can tell Lee that he’s welcomed to the family with open arms, and your nana wants you both to stay with her at some point over the summer. She’s really livid that you got engaged without her vetting your fiancé first. Oh, and she also ‘demands’ a picture of the two of you to show off to her book club. You know how competitive they all are about their grandchildren. Apparently being engaged trumps all, until you’re old enough to respectably have a baby in wedlock.
So again, Madeleine, I’m sorry for what I said to you – I should have been more supportive, and tried to explain calmly. But I lost my temper a little, something I shouldn’t have done. And it has taken me far too long to write this apology to you, and I’m sorry for the delay, but I couldn’t tell you that I’m giving you two my blessing until I really meant it.
Happy birthday,
Love
Mum.
Thank God.
Madeleine leaned back against the stone step behind her, sighing with relief.
She was okay… she was fine about it… everything was okay. The sky suddenly seemed a little brighter, a little clearer. Madeleine had never wanted to upset her mum, which was why this was such good news. She could go through with this without tears and anger …
It was all okay.
