Dear Amelia
“And though she be but little, she is fierce.” – William Shakespeare
Dear Amelia,
You are two today. I can hardly believe it. I can hardly even remember my life before you were a part of it. You changed me…stretched me to love more deeply and selflessly than I thought possible. You made me a mother. I remember the moment I found out you were growing inside of me and the moment you were born…your daddy’s face was glowing with new life and purpose. It was so beautiful. We were in awe of you then and have been every day since. Every. Single. Day. You are curious, engaging, and so sweet! I love that you say hi and bye to people you meet…and to airplanes, parks, and pools. I love the way you give kisses and hugs to your family and how you speak those words out loud as you do it. I love that you want to “cheers” with your juice glass and anyone else’s drink (including your sister’s bottle and the picture of the coffee cup in your nighttime book of prayers). You live in song and dance and moments of throwing your head back and smiling for no reason at all. You live deeply!
And I can’t wait to tell you about your one-year-old self in the summer that your sister was born. How palpable your excitement and love was the moment you first met Eliza just minutes after her birth. You held her in your lap and have held her in your love ever since. And when things got scary. When mama and daddy didn’t come home for so many weeks. You were so brave, so patient, so adapting. We were amazed by you! By the speed in which you embraced your new reality, clutching the Hello Kitty purse you had packed with a pacifier and hair bow and looking up at YaYa by the door with an expression that said I’m ready. You knew where you were going…you knew how to get to the elevator, how to get to our boarding room, and how to get to your sister’s bassinet in the NICU. It must have been so hard to leave each day…it was hard for us too…but you lived in the moments of time spent together watching Mary Poppins, running to see the fish in the waiting room lobby, and exploring the contents of every drawer you could get to first. You somehow made the impossible task of saying goodbye doable with your smiles and waves, reassuring us that you were okay. That we could do this…we could get through it all and come back together with new squeals of delight at every reunion.
Mostly, I’m excited to be a witness of your journey to come. Your delight in life is contagious and your fierce courage and loyalty astonishing. My prayer for you, my precious girl, is that you continue to grow in curiosity and kindness, embracing all the light and love God has poured onto this earth…soaking it in and sharing it with others. I have no doubt you will…you already do in so many ways. I love, love, love you, birthday girl!
Love,
Mama