Seven years ago today, this sweetheart came into my life.
Being a first time mom, all I could think when they handed me to her was:
1. She’s beautiful and her head isn’t that pointy. (It totally was.)
2. Don’t drop her. (I still don’t want to drop her.)
3. I think she wants milk. (She was rooting around.)
I remember so well when I fell in love with her. It was a few days later, at home. I was holding her and I felt this pain in my chest. Like my heart was going to burst. And I cried. Because I loved her so much that it hurt.
We’ve been close ever since. I just get her. I look at her and I know how she’s feeling.
This one, my solstice baby. She’s light on the darkest day. Quiet, thoughtful, creative, so much brighter than she realizes.
She smiles more than she laughs, rarely takes the spotlight. But she does ham it up for us sometimes…
Such a kind, loving soul. The best big sister ever.
So gentle and caring with her baby cousin…
So sweet with me. Hugging me when I’m sad. Readily apologizing when she has misbehaved. Hugging me when I feel a burst of love for her (she’s been hanging around cuddling while I write this, in fact).
There’s this vulnerability to her. Unkindness pierces her. She needs harmony around her. She needs it. So she will sometimes even squash her own desires to create that harmony. She just has no shell.
And that’s why I feel so fiercely protective of her. She’s as close to an angel as I’ve ever known. So happy seventh birthday to the sweetest girl ever!