Milá Sally…

Dear Sally,

Last spring, I had a moment of pure triumph – one so major that my teenage daughter Kate nearly fainted from envy. Literally. She texted me from school mid-class, full of emojis and dramatic “slay girl” exclamations and other symbols meant to show just HOW MUCH she envied me and HOW MUCH she admired me – and wished she could have done the same…. Why? Because I had bumped into none other than our Czech President Petr Pavel, casually enjoying a beer near the Castle.

So naturally, with my personality – not one to hesitate – I approached him and asked for a kind favor: a photo together. Despite the bodyguards, I respectfully cozied up to him and took his arm, which he gallantly offered right away like a true gentleman.

Truth be told, I had to fight a little for my moment of glory – there was a group of Ukrainian women walking by, also by chance, and when they spotted our head of state, they stopped. Their guide teared up and began thanking the president for his unwavering support for their attacked country.

It was heartwarming to see how gracefully our president handled this emotional moment – he thanked them kindly and exchanged a few warm words.

But then the Ukrainian women also wanted a photo with him. And I was like – hold up! NO way! Support or no support, I was here first! And I made sure to say so. I quickly explained to their guide that of course they could take a photo with the president and his handsome security team – but only AFTER ME, because I WAS FIRST AND I’VE BEEN WAITING.

Our president has a great sense of fair play and agreed that YES, this lady (me) was indeed here first, and therefore had the right to go first.

So once again – thank you, Mr. President, for standing on the side of truth! Because, as we all know – truth always wins!

And shortly after truth’s victory, I was feeling completely satisfied and triumphant, sending my daughter the photo, knowing full well she’d faint from envy.

She, like the rest of her classmates, LOVES HIM. She explained to me that he’s their DADDY.

“Wait, what do you mean Daddy, Kate? What exactly does that mean in reference to our president?”

“Just… DADDY, mom,” followed by a dramatic eye-roll, a slight blush on her cheeks – which looked lovely on her – a sigh of a platonically and very romantically in-love young lady, and with her next breath:

“He’s just DADDY,” and that was all the explanation I got.

The photo caused such a stir in my daughter’s world that her classmates declared me an ICONIC Mom. Yes, with a capital “I,” and in full actually it was “Ultra Skibidi Alpha Mega Cinema ICONIC Mom. Whatever that fully means, it’s apparently a high honor in her world.

Clearly, the whole “photo with the president” thing stuck in her mind, because at the first opportunity, she pounced like a tigress – on the chance to get her own photo. It happened recently, at the opening ceremony of the 80th annual Prague Spring Festival, where I brought both of my darlings – dressed to the nines – along with our beloved Grandma.

The opening concert was truly grand affair, made even grander by the arrival of our President and the First Lady. The concert itself was stunning – Bedřich Smetana’s Má Vlast, as always, opened the Prague Spring Festival, and under Semyon Bychkov’s baton, the Czech Philharmonic sounded absolutely majestic. True masters.

And after the concert came the gala reception – well, for invitees only. And no, we weren’t invited.
But fate (and Kate’s stunning dress) stepped in, and we had no trouble getting into thereception. My amazing daughter saw her chance – and was not about to miss it. She too was going to be an ICON, and she too would get a photo with the President.

She wore a breathtaking floor-length dark blue evening gown, with a very daring neckline – which she fills out quite well and knows how to carry with pride. No, she didn’t get that from me.
She designed and sewed the dress herself – a bold move, especially for someone like me, who’s all thumbs with anything crafty. But she wasn’t scared. She had announced she’d make her own prom dress – and she did. It amazes not just me and the rest of the family, but everyone around.

She wore it in Vienna, at the opera, and stunned the Asian tourists, who swooned when they heard she made the gown herself asking for selfie with her.

So at the reception, she didn’t waste time eyeing the tiger prawns and salmon. She made a beeline to the front, before anyone else could react, where speeches from all the big names were about to begin – including, of course, the President himself.
During his speech, Kate subtly winked at each of his six bodyguards in turn, letting them know she was absolutely no threat and should be allowed to come closer, and closer…

“Mom,” she hissed over her shoulder,

“Stay near me, MOM!!! I’m getting that photo, MOM!!! OMG MOM HE’S HERE!!! DADDY!!! OMG MOM I LOVE HIM!!! BRING MARTIN! NOW MOM, NOW!!! BEFORE HE’S GONE!”

So I had no choice but to push through the crowd with my son, who’s not as much of a front-line warrior, but he managed just fine – for his sister, and out of curiosity. We finally joined Kate, who was flushed red with excitement. All the bodyguards now understood – this beautiful young woman was harmless, clearly here for the President, and the lanky older lady behind her was her mom, and the boy was irrelevant. All good. Carry on, gentlemen.

Then came the moment of truth – the President stepped off the stage to applause and, despite his guards trying to clear a path, couldn’t get past my daughter Kathrine, who stood her ground.
And he didn’t seem to mind. I think he saw from a distance how moved she was and how much she wanted to meet him.

And who could resist such youth, enthusiasm, and charisma? You’d need a heart of stone – and our president most definitely does not have one.

He shook her hand, and Kate blushed even deeper. But she didn’t back down – she spoke fluently and at length, explaining how much she and her classmates admired him, how they supported him, appreciated his work, and wished him continued strength and health.

I watched her the entire time with the breathless pride of a mother and blurred vision from emotion. I pulled myself together and watched further, how my not-so-little girl asked him if she could get a photo with him and he happily agreed. He even looked around for someone to take it.
Kate quickly pointed out that it wouldn’t be necessary – her mom (me) was right there, phone in hand. Of course.

So I stepped forward, greeted the President, shook his hand, wished him strength and offered my admiration and support, mentioned his wonderful wife – and then, finally, we took the picture.

I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even realize **I should have been in the photo too!

But that’s okay – I already have mine. This one belonged to my brave, brilliant daughter, who earned it fair and square.

That night, Kate floated on endorphins well past midnight, her social media buzzing with reactions. She had become what she always wanted to be: an ICON in her own right. And as I watched her shine, I knew – this fearless, talented young woman really is her mother’s daughter

By then, we’d both had a few glasses of bubbly and finally made it to those tiger prawns.
So, dear Sally, that’s one more unforgettable experience we now share. And I know I have a daughter who’s not afraid to go after what she wants – and that warms my heart like nothing else.

To cap it all off? The next day, my own mother sent us a photo from 1959 of her with President Novotný. Different time, different man – but still a president.

Like mother, like daughter. Like grandmother. ICONS, all the way.