photo by Benjy Feen at Google Headquarters
When I was at the 140 Conference in San Francisco last month, Jeff Pulver shared a wonderful perspective that all of our tweeting and blogging and flickring and facebooking and general social media shananigans will become a digital scrapbook for our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. Because everything we say lingers on the internet, they will be able to understand us like no generation before in the history of time.
Can you imagine if you could search your great-grandma’s Twitter stream? What would that tell you about yourself?
It kind of makes you think a little harder about what you post, doesn’t it?
With that in mind, I wanted to go on the permanent digital record today, October 1, 201o to tell my baby girl Angela Rose happy third birthday.
I am sitting in a hotel room in San Francisco as she is driving with her daddy and brother to the heart of the Navajo Nation in Window Rock, Arizona.
I miss her sweet face and deep embrace and silly laugh.
I love everything about being her mom. She grounds me and expands my heart and reminds me that sometimes makeup needs to go all over the walls, not just on your face.
She makes me want to do great work, so she will be proud of my legacy and inspired to do something deeply satisfying and meaningful in her career.
She is a magic eraser of any self-doubt or insecurity or flaw or concern. I am whole and perfect in her three-year old eyes.
If you were here in my arms Angela, I would hug you tight, put my lips close to your ear and whisper the question I ask you every day:
Who is my girl?
“I am,” you would whisper back.
And your secret smile and tight hug would tell me in that moment, imprinted through the rest of time, that I am blessed to be your mother.
Happy birthday my sweet, sweet baby girl. I love you.