I started to write this when you were first born. Then again at 6 months and again right before your first birthday. I feel like I owe it to you to finish, but every day you learn something new, or amaze me in another way and what I had started to write seems like “old news”
You. Are. Special. I mean that. There is something about you that is beyond words. Ethereal? Otherworldly? Magical? I don’t know. You’re just something special.
I remember sitting in South Station, waiting for our train one afternoon when you were still “fresh” maybe 3 months old. An older woman, impeccably dressed, smelling of lavender, approached us. She smiled and continued on, but then stopped, turned around and said, with a hint of a Southern drawl, “This baby, she’s special, she’s going to do big things some day, I just know it” She smiled again, grabbed your hand and squeezed it, then turned and walked away. She saw what I had been seeing in your since the moment you were born. Something special.
A dear friend always comments on the “twinkle” in your eyes. This is a woman whom I absolutely adore and think the world of. She too has that same “twinkle” and I think maybe you two are cut from the same cloth.
When I was young my grandmother used to tell me that I was an “Old Soul.” As a child I didn’t really understand what that meant, but I took it as the highest compliment a little girl could receive. I understand what it means now, and I feel that way about you. It’s as if you’ve been here before, you’ve traveled this world and experienced life before this one. You just give off this aura of “knowing.”
There are times when I don’t think I am worthy of being your mother. You are just so good, so sweet and oh so charming. Your smile can light up a room and can change a person’s whole day. Whether it’s the elderly man in Target, waiting for his daughter-in-law who said that your blue eyes reminded him of his wife who had passed away, and that you were just “beautiful” or the woman who sat with us in the food court because your smile just “made her day” you make people happy.
You smile, and wave and say “hiii” to everyone (usually) You don’t judge. Black, white, tall, short, skinny, FAB! (we don’t say “fat” anymore haha) tattoos, piercings, long hair, short hair, bald, rich, poor, gay, straight, transgendered, you show the same joy and respect upon meeting them all. I hope you stay this way. I hope the world around you, the media, pressure from friends and family, doesn’t change your compassionate soul.
I know that there are people reading this and rolling their eyes. Probably thinking it’s over the top, but it’s all true. I don’t want you to have an ego, I just want you to know what I see in you.
Of course you have your moments. You refuse to let the living room remain clean for more than 30 seconds. You are a champion mess maker. Just the other day you quietly climbed on to our bed and spread sweet potato puree all over our comforter (and yourself) When I turned around and saw what you’d done, you just gave me a smirk like “What? You needed to wash this thing anyway!” You get mad when you don’t get what you want and what you want is usually the food that I’m eating. Today I made the mistake of bringing you in to the bookstore where you proceeded to grab as many books as possible and drop them on the floor. Then when I picked you up to try and leave you sobbed “Ooohhhh nono, noooo, nooo, nooooooooo….” as if I’d just sent your puppy to live on a farm in the midwest. But then you grab my face and give me a kiss and say “Hiiii” and I can’t help but laugh!
You’re my little comedian and my little drama queen. Everything you do is done with flair! My parents used to call me “Shirley Maclaine” as a kid and I think that suits you as well! There is never a dull moment when you’re in the room. I have laughed more in the last year than I have in a long time.
You’ve got moxie little girl, and I think that woman at the train station was right; you’re going to do big things some day!
I love you!