Passenger<\/a>,<\/em> by Noah Kahan, played in my head:<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI think I've found a way to keep myself whole I write my fears on green notes I swallow my doubts away and watch them grow old.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI thought about the pad of green notes on the merch table at Noah\u2019s concert in 2019. Judging by the number of contributions inside the binder, concertgoers in every city had accepted his invitation to write down their feelings, a practice that Noah said saved him. Natalie had created her own version of that in 2018. At age fourteen, she\u2019d begun collecting fear-fighting quotes to combat anxiety as she prepared to leave her comfort zone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Almost nineteen now, what she needed as she faced another scary step into the unknown became clear to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With green notes in hand, I dug through the store\u2019s supply of journals. At the bottom was the only one that said, \u201cGOOD THINGS ARE COMING.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even the watercolor cover, in shades of pink, sea foam, and blue looked like my girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nOn the day of the celebratory luncheon, the sticky notes were in the hands of family members. Small fingers with chipped polish and elderly hands with age spots, clutched their offering. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For Natalie \u2013 the first grandchild, niece, cousin in our immediate family to graduate \u2013 each person had selected one word for her to carry with her and why they\u2019d chosen it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One by one, we went around the table. As people revealed their word to the graduate sitting beside me, themes emerged. Tears formed. Laughter ensued. Memories stirred. Strengths shone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For someone who detests the limelight, each person\u2019s captive attention seemed to hold her in comfort and ease.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nFor someone who had to be the strong one in our family this past year, each person\u2019s layer of armor seemed to bolster her up.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nFor someone who keeps her emotions in check, each person\u2019s vulnerable offering seemed to give her permission to be fully human.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nLater, I placed the journal of GOOD THINGS ARE COMING in my daughter\u2019s bedroom. I flipped through the first sixteen pages, now decorated with green sticky notes and familiar handwriting. I wondered what day in the future she\u2019d turn to these words to carry her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t have to wonder long. The impact was visible last weekend at her college\u2019s summer orientation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Natalie and I stretched our legs from the long car ride, she commented on how glad she was that we would be together that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Somehow she\u2019d missed the fact that the student itinerary was different than the parent schedule, so I reluctantly broke the news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As someone who is resistant to change and finds small talk awkward, I waited quietly as she processed this new information.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a moment, she told me she would be okay and why. That is when I heard several of Her Words<\/em> from the journal of GOOD THINGS:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nCourageous Determined<\/strong>Sparkly Kind Loving Creative<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\nWhen it was time for us to separate, Natalie went off with a wave and her ever-present pink water bottle for security. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
After taking in several hours of information, parents were invited to attend a variety of breakout sessions. My body indicated I definitely needed a breakout session, but it was not in a building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From the back of my car, I pulled out my beloved, sky blue HOKA orthopedic shoes. I then headed down the hilly campus road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Within ten minutes, I noticed a row of fixer-upper homes. Dividing the houses from the edge of the college campus was a heavily trafficked road. As I walked further, the brightest yellow of all yellows caught my eye. The color was being painted on the front steps of one of the homes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I watched as a painter with a handkerchief tied around her head painted a few strokes, then stood back to evaluate.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I waited for a lull in the traffic and then hollered out, \u201cI LOVE THE YELLOW STEPS!<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nGiving no indication she heard me, the painter wiped her brow and kept on painting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cupping my hands around my mouth this time, I tried again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI LOVE THE YELLOW STEPS!\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\nNot even a glance in my direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Frustrated, I found myself estimating how long it would take to walk back to the entrance of the college and make my way to this street, so I could compliment her work. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just then a bead of sweat slid down my back. I looked down at my dressy romper that GAP obviously did not design for hilly walks and summer heat waves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust sit down\u2026 breathe,\u201d my heart coaxed. <\/h2>\n\n\n\n While sitting in that shady spot, I realized\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Right now, there\u2019s a person painting joy on weathered steps.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nRight now, there\u2019s a person holding her security pink water bottle while making a friend.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nRight now, there\u2019s a person writing his fears on green sticky notes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nAnd right now, there\u2019s a person inappropriately dressed for walking, marveling at the colorful ways human beings cope to overcome the gray.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI looked down at my feet, remembering where I was one year ago, unable to walk more than a few steps and about to be hit with a crisis of epic proportion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I wiped away a sweaty tear, I gave myself one word:<\/p>\n\n\n\n