You were a thought, and now you’re here.
This was on a card I received at my baby shower when I was pregnant with my first child. I didn’t understand it fully at the time. Three children later, I have come to know what it means.
My second child, my daughter, turns five today. So young, so new, a small space of time. Each moment to her is still so alive. She lives immersed, without constraint, not looking ahead. This leads to so many tears, of anger, frustration. And so much joy. But mostly to experience. She experiences life in a way I strive to.
She laughs. It rings out, and the whole house is drawn to her. Her elder brother, watches, hesitates, and smiles. He too learns the ease of lightness from her. The baby throws herself at him. He learns what it is to love from her.
Dried leaves are in her hand. She pressed them in the autumn, and finds them now. Forgotten treasures. A birthday gift. She throws them, and they float to the ground, littering our carpet with gold and red. Do you want one? she says. Sharing her find. Sharing her joy. It has never occurred to her to keep it for herself.
Happy birthday my daughter.