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Today Talisa turns sixteen years old. Where did the time go? As we reminisce over the last sixteen years, I’m thankful for so much. Mostly I am thankful for the special relationship that Michael shares with Talisa.

Few fathers understand how to be a dad to a daughter in the different phases of her life. Michael was raised in a very conservative family who believed that wearing dresses, amongst other patriarchal ideas, was how a women showed her dignity. The focus of what made a strong, courageous woman was placed on all the physical aspects of being a woman, and not on what counted….a woman’s heart, mind and soul.

Far from his conservative upbringing, Michael has raised his daughters with the freedom to express themselves and with the confidence in knowing that nothing they do will ever change his love and commitment to them. They are his greatest delight and his deepest heartache as he mourns silently all that Savannah will not experience in her life as a woman with a disability.

From the softness he shows his daughters in so many ways; to indulging their musical tastes; to patiently waiting outside change-rooms while they try on clothing or can’t decide what colour blusher to buy; to waiting while they take over the mirror in our bathroom; to accepting that he will buy hair bands and lip glosses far too often; to sitting up at night until Talisa completes her homework: Michaels’ heart has completely been flooded by being a father to his daughters.

When a girl child is honoured and respected by her father; when she is made to feel capable, and still has a safe place with her dad to be vulnerable; she becomes the most remarkable gift he can ever give the world. A women who is whole.

Today as we celebrate Talisa’s sixteenth birthday, I am so emotional remembering the day she was born. I remember looking at her in my arms and telling Michael that he need only remember two things about raising a daughter:

The first is that you are guaranteed (for the most part) the first eighteen years with them until they become independent. That means only eighteen Christmas mornings when your children are all yours. To me if an average lifespan is seventy years then eighteen seemed like just a drop in our entire lives. So Michael and I agreed to do our best to make those eighteen years as amazing as possible.

Eighteen years where we will hold every moment with tenderness and gratitude before it slips away.

The second piece of revelation or advice if you will, that I gave Michael was don’t ever, ever let your daughters down. Never. Daughters will need their fathers because when you don’t have a dad, the world thinks nothing of breaking you. It knows you have nowhere to go.

Be the dad whose daughters don’t have to look for love in the wrong places or test life to figure out what Love feels like. A strong, capable women already knows what Love really is because she soars from the shoulders of the mighty man who raised her. And when she needs a soft place to land, it is usually right back in her daddy’s arms.

Today as Talisa turns sixteen she makes us so proud to be her parents. She is a remarkable sister, a genuine friend, a blessing to her grandparents, and in so many ways she is both mine and Michael’s ‘right hands’. She is my delight and her fathers greatest gift to the world.

Happy Sixteenth Birthday Talisa. You will always have my voice in your ear praying for you and my hand in yours whenever you need me. So too you will always have your dads’ arms to hold you and his shoulders to soar from. When the time comes for you to soar, don’t be afraid to fly high my darling. The view will be spectacular.

Never forget why we chose your name. May it be a reminder that God is always with you. We love you.

(The meaning of the name Talisa” is: “Consecrated to God”.
Categories: Hindu Names, Indian Names, Sanskrit Names.
Used in: English speaking countries, Hindu speaking countries.
Gender: Girl Names.
Origins: African-American.https://www.thenamemeaning.com/talisa/)

Today is Good Friday in South Africa. We have always loved celebrating this day.  Amidst singing songs of worship all day (we love music), we have celebrated this day with a special meal of a roast leg of lamb for lunch and all the trimmings.

Actually, since Savannah was seven years old I taught her to participate in preparing the lamb. There were so many reasons why this was an impossible feat for her. She had physical and sensory challenges. She had some language processing difficulties and her ability to concentrate was almost non-existent.

However, we found clever ways to help her to engage in this special family time. As a young mother I hoped that when my children became adults and when we would be enjoying family celebrations with their respective families; that Savannah would participate in the celebrations by preparing a meal. I wanted her to feel how important her contribution to the family was.

It was humble beginnings of simply teaching her to pour the marinade over the leg of lamb to about ten years later when she was able to plan the entire meal. She would mix the marinade, prepare the leg of lamb and with some assistance from myself or my mum; she even served the meal. Savannah loved planning this meal. She felt so proud that she could serve her family and that we appreciated her efforts so much.

Being raised as an Indian woman, my family placed a high value on our ability as women to prepare meals. It is important to be the “hostess with the most-ess”. Literally. We value celebrations marked by the beautiful presentation of large meals. So, while I don’t live my life based on my culture; I did feel a sense of pride that my physically disabled daughter who is also autistic could prepare a special dish for a special family celebration.

This year though Savannah has not been bothered with planning the meal. She has not been interested in doing much. She is going through a difficult time for many reasons. It is not my place to share the details of that publicly.

What I can share is that as I watch her grapple with her reality, it is easy for me to feel angry and sad. We worked hard as a family to give Savannah a hopeful, bright future. We wanted her to always feel happy and joyful. We wanted her to know that she is big part of the world and that she has a reason to wake up everyday and live her best life.

As I ponder the complex threads of my emotions, I realise I am not sad or angry. I awakened to the understanding that the human experience isn’t about success and failures. It is a rather magnificent testimony of being a witness to each other’s lives. And when that “other” is your own child, then it is only you who can be brave enough and strong enough to witness everything that our children must endure.

I reminisce today of all the Easters before when Savannah’s excitement filled the household as she prepared the Good Friday Leg of Lamb lunch; and I am thankful.

I am thankful for the many Easter celebrations that was everything I wanted it to be. I am reminded of how strong we all are and how much we have lived through. I am grateful that Savannah too knows her own strength and power.  I am hopeful that she will find her way again because of that. I am humbled as I surrender to the understanding that life is full of surprises. Some good and some bad. My courage is renewed as I remember the grace that has been given to us which has brought us this far.

Today as we celebrate Good Friday, my hope is in the story of the crucifixion of Christ. It was not an end, but a beginning of a new life. It is my thread of hope that one day Savannah will know what it feels like to be Peaceful and Joyful without needing to prove anything to anyone. She will never have to suffer the weight of living in a world that sets itself against her.  And I will never have to feel helpless and frustrated at my own limitations as a parent.

That is the why in spite of everything, I am celebrating the gift that Good Friday gives to me. Faith, Hope and Love.

 

 

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