I Helped Make Her
My favorite person is my daughter.
At 16 years old, she’s much wiser than me.
In 6th grade she was excluded from a long time friend’s birthday celebration.
I was mad on her behalf,
But she took it in stride, “I guess there were people she felt closer to, I understand.”
In 9th grade, she and her best friend drifted apart.
Instead of dwelling, she moved on and surrounded herself with those who loved her.
She is passionate about her school,
And encourages her friends to be too.
She’s involved in so many extra curricular activities, it’s hard to keep count.
She chooses to challenge herself,
Takes as many Advanced Placement and Honors classes as she is allowed to.
Not only does she have a heavy course load,
But earns As and Bs.
She doesn’t know what she wants to do after high school,
But whatever it is, I know she’s bound for greatness.
I can’t believe that I help make this incredible human being.
I am proud to call her mine.
“My F.P.”
My Favorite Person:
That is what I call him. No, he is not my own child. He is the son of one of my siblings.
He is my nephew.
Do I love him more than my own child?
No, I do not.
How is that possible?
Love and favoritism are different.
A teacher will always have a few students that stand out in his or her mind over a teaching career.
Maybe it was the one who tried the hardest, or learned the most. Maybe, it was the most challenging or best behaved.
Nevertheless, it does not mean the teacher ‘loved’ any of these students. Yet, they are or were ‘favorites.’
My point being, just because someone is our favorite does not necessarily mean we love them the most.
People often think love and favoritism are one in the same-
They are not.
This misconception has become so popular, I asked my nephew to “keep it between us” that he is my favorite. I expained to him the reason; similar to the teacher who does not want to hurt the feelings of the other students, I do not want to hurt the feelings of my own child or the rest if his cousins.
“Why am I your favorite?” He asked.
I replied, “because it is you, where I see myself the most. It is you, who inspired me to write my first book and it was you, who taught me how to be an auntie.”
He smiled. I then read to him “Hi IQ.” A piece I wrote for him as he struggled in school. I told him how I shared this write on the prose and how creative people think differently. I then told him that I would ask his parent/my sibling to chooses a different punishment for a ‘not so good’ report card.
“A creative person needs their outlet!” I protested.
“My F.P.” was pleased when his musical instrument was returned.
My sibling took away the video game instead and I began tutoring “My F.P.”
I do love him, second only to my own child...
“Between us.”
By: Benz
©11/4/19
