Coming of age

 30 years ago, perhaps to the day, I made a big decision! I bought my first handbag. No, don't get me wrong. I wasn't into cross dressing. I bought a sleek modern handbag (in black!) which I have been admiring in the shop window for my then girlfriend (now wife). It was a branded item, from a French fashion house. It cost me more than 10% of my monthly salary. But it was all worth it. I was prepared to spend a lot more and as it turns out, share all my assets with this girl.

There is a twist to this tale though. When her 21st birthday came around, I was not there in person. I had already been posted for work in Bangkok and the handbag which had been procured and lovingly wrapped months before was duly handed over to my best friend's girlfriend (she was more reliable than he was) for her to hand over to D at the birthday party. 

So, I never saw D's reaction to the gift. I only heard her voice in a call and read her response in a letter, both of which warmed my heart  a thousand miles away considerably. She took really good care of it and it still looks new and modern to this day. The first is due to how she preserved important things and the second because I got timeless taste! Hey, that's why I married her.

So, handbag and 21st birthdays have a special significance for us in this family. And when M turned 21, her parents got her one too, in her favorite color and in a design her mom knew she would like. 

Gifts mark a moment in time and some, like handbags,  have some function of utility too. The real significance about coming of age though is well summarised in this poem. It's not about turning 21, but its about facing the years to come and knowing you will remain beautiful inside. you brave and glorious thing!

How many years of beauty do I have left?

she asks me.

How many more do you want?

Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.

When you are 80 years old

and your beauty rises in ways

your cells cannot even imagine now

and your wild bones grow luminous and

ripe, having carried the weight

of a passionate life.

When your hair is aflame

with winter

and you have decades of

learning and leaving and loving

sewn into

the corners of your eyes

and your children come home

to find their own history

in your face.

When you know what it feels like to fail

ferociously

and have gained the

capacity

to rise and rise and rise again.

When you can make your tea

on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon

and still have a song in your heart

Queen owl wings beating

beneath the cotton of your sweater.

Because your beauty began there

beneath the sweater and the skin,

remember?

This is when I will take you

into my arms and coo

YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING

you've come so far.

I see you.

Your beauty is breathtaking.

Author Jeannette Encinias

 Happy birthday, my darling daughter