Tatyana

This is the first post in a new series on my blog. Its a sort of writing challenge. This one is a Letter to My Unborn Child. Enjoy

 

[Nina Simone x Feeling Good]

Tatyana,

I’m here in a dark room arranging little specs of light trying to make the brightest picture in my life. To be completely honest, I have nothing to say to you my dear. I just have a whole lot to live with you.

I have this weird desire to conceive you in Amsterdam (definitely, not in the red light district, I’m too proper for that), with the love of my life, whoever that woman will be. One thing is for certain, I’ll try my hardest to find you the best mother ever. I won’t lie to you; I can’t see myself being the father of the century. At this stage in my life I care about so little in life that I wonder if I will be capable of raising the amazing woman you will group up to be. I don’t wish for you to have everything I never had, but rather everything you’d ever want. I can see us taking walks in Central Park, talking about how the world forces us to drink cyanide in our Styrofoam cups. I can see us discussing the elegance, diversity and richness of our Ghanaian culture, as we watch the film adaptation of Manu Herbstein’s Ama.  Most importantly, I can see you changing my life for the better. I can almost certainly guarantee that you’ll influence my life more than I would yours, and for that I’ll like to say thank you.

It’s a cruel, unforgiving and self-destructive world now that I can only pray and work for the best environment for you to grow up in. Whether that will be along the beautiful beaches of Cabo, or in a Chateau in Burgundy, or in a mud hut near my grandmother’s grave in northern Ghana. I’d love for us to be able to exist in love and happiness before anything else. Trust me dear I’m on my grind busting moves to ensure I’ll make life confortable for you. In fact writing this has made me realized that all my hard work will not be for me, but for you. So pray for me to break the shackles of laziness and lay down the pot filled with other impediments in my life to ensure you live life to the fullest, however you choose to define that.

I wonder what your mother is doing at this moment in time. Sorry dear, but I can’t answer that. As much as I can guarantee you having a super mom, I don’t know or can’t tell you who she is.

I love you Tatyana. I’ve never said this to my parents nor have I ever heard them say it. With you I hope and will try to say it, but like one of my best friends taught me, I will learn to show it. I would record videos of all your important moments growing up (First Steps, First words, school plays, birthday parties, and the likes). I’m sure you’ll find them embarrassing at some point in your growth. But I want you to know that I will only do stuff like that because I want those moments to last forever. I will support you and guide you in making life altering decision, but ultimately I’ll allow you to experience life without having me steer you in a particular direction like a Cargo ship.

After all this, I just can’t wait to meet you, squeeze your cheeks and kiss you on the forehead. Carry you in my arms and sing Daley and Marsha Ambrosuis’s Alone Together to you. Watch you fall asleep as the moon light sneaks into your room causing you to glow like the angel you are. But I’m not going to rush into anything. The world is a wonderful place and I’d love for you to experience it at the best time, which unfortunately is not now. But one day I know you’ll read this and realize that it was worth the wait.

I love you like I’ve never know before. I will always be,

Your awesome Father.

Hakeem.