On January 8th, you turned six. This morning you told me, “I can’t be five forever. I am six. You turned six too, Momma. Do you remember?” I understand your six, but I am reluctant to accept it. Everytime we celebrate your birthday, a part of me realizes I need to let go.
There is so much of you that I love. Not a regular kind of love, but love that I feel in my marrow. Belly-laughs. Conversations about what you learned at school. Watching you grasp a monkey bar and letting go of another. Your love of anything crafts. I see so much of me in you. You love to read. You write long stories that fill up the blank page. You observe everything. And you are restless just like your Momma. I love it when I am in the middle of anything and you say, “I want to be just like you Momma.” It’s the one of the best compliments I’ve ever received.
You are six. Now you have to use two hands to show that you are six. In four more years, you won’t be able to show your fingers to indicate your age. This realization is both startling and joyful to witness. You have definitely developed a personality. You love with intensity and with unconditional love. Both are palpable as soon as I receive a hug or kiss from you. Bold and sensitive, I worry about when you feel left out or an unkind word maybe dropped in your direction. I know though these are all curves that you must face. But I hope to equip you with the strength to face whatever adversity may come your way.
But for now, enjoy Six. I love you my dear sweet, lovable little girl. Happy Birthday. xoxo you forever. Momma