As I celebrated my beloved Abigail's 6th birthday today --yes, three plus months in advance, thank you very much!-- my mind was racing. Among the many things that captured me, was the realization that my child's 6th birthday will be the first one that she celebrates with a sister that actually interacts with her. Last year's birthday is so foggy in my memory, I don't even remember what we did for her. Exccept the cake. I do remember the cake, because it was awesome! But I do know that Hannah was just a bundle of incoherent motions and no realization whatsoever. I still can't believe we gifted that precious tiny creature to Abbie, her sister. I hope she will always know what a miracle it has been, and how much love it signifies.
Abigail had a super-super time, as she would put it, celebrating with her best buds. The ever ubiquitous Emily, whom she adores and venerates; Madison and Grandon (sweetest boy *ever*); Trevor; Jackson; Ry; and a bunch of kids from school. She run around, jumped, danced and yelled to her heart's content. Hannah Grace played a little, too --more than anything she was memserized by the activity and the noise to be her demanding self too much. She stayed cocooned in my arms, or her daddy's, and crawled around a little bit.
It was a good party, bittersweet, like all these celebrations tend to be, for me. One more year that I thank God for allowing me the precious gift of Abigail being mine, all mine. One more year that has passed. I look at the long legged, piggy-tailed little girl and I mourn a bit the loss of her babyness. Her chubbyness. Her baby smell, so sweet and tender, just like her. I watch her making her way amongst strangers, all powerful and rowdy because she knows it's all about her. And I think, please God, please please please, let her be strong. No matter what may come, please let her be strong enough to walk unscathed past strangers, through ups and downs, through hurts and joys. Please please please, let her be strong, stronger than me, stronger than I ever was. Please please please, let her happiness never depend on anyone or anything but herself. Please, let her be strong.
As life continues, as she grows up, stage after stage of learning and experiencing, I realize how little I can truly make things better for her. As I drop her off to school in the mornings, my heart aches a little: I won't be there to comfort her through any pang of fear or hurt that she may feel while she's away from me. And I know... it's all part of life. But when I watch her sleep at night, and pet her pretty, relaxed face, I know she is my pride and joy. I want her to be happy above anything else.
I wrote a letter to Abigail a few months after her birth. Correction: I finished the letter a few months after her birth, I actually started writing it while I was still carrying her deep inside of me. I realize now how incomplete and inadequate that letter is. All I knew then was nothing compared to the love I feel and the lessons I have learned in the past (almost) six years. I am at a loss for words on how to express it all.
So, while I sit here typing yet another inadequate post, please know one thing, my little no-longer-itty-bitty girl: life is confusing. People are confusing. Be strong. And always know --I'm trying, my love, I'm trying.