Dear Periwinkle,
It was nearly impossible to imagine this day back when we
were trying to get you to eat just a single ounce in the NICU. It seemed so far
away when I was wearing you around the house so you’d just take a nap, for the
love of God, even as I did laundry and cooked dinner. Thirteen seemed so
abstract when you were trying to crawl but finding yourself going backward,
into corners, or crying hysterically on long car rides to Grandma and Grandpa’s
house.
Thirteen seemed a little more feasible when you started walking,
then running, then telling everyone what to do like you were in charge in that
adorable little voice that was so loud when it wanted to be. But we had time…
so much time.
There was moving, and discovering, and trying all sorts of
new things. There was soccer and dance (how cute you were doing Irish step at
age five!), then horses and gymnastics. You threw yourself into Girl Scouts and
friends and baking EVERYTHING and eating none of it, and of course cello — and
we’ve been so busy it all just flew by (even as those days felt so damn long).
So here we are. Thirteen. So much has brought you here and
made you the strong-willed, passionate, confident, creative, opinionated, hilarious
person you are. But there is so much that is amazing just ahead. I am so
excited for you to experience what’s next, with all the drama and heartache and
confusion that it entails — but also the love and incredible memories and
friendships with people who truly see you and accept you just as you are.
Thirteen. Wow. But when you beg me to sit with you at
bedtime just a little longer and you snuggle in under your covers, in the bed
that seemed so huge when you were three, I still just see my little girl.
Happy birthday!
Love,
Mom
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