Dear Nora,
It shouldn’t surprise me, but every year it does. I can’t figure out why I’m cranky, more irritable and less patient. Then, all of a sudden we’re singing happy birthday and marking another year we didn’t get to have with you and I realize my grief has taken hold of me for weeks. This year, with everything going on in the world and some of it in such close proximity to us, I’ve been trying to be more mindful of my attitude and feelings. So, in some ways, I’ve been more patient, calm and gentle as we approached your birthday (except for yesterday). I guess that’s some sort of blessing and maybe I should keep that in mind for next year.
Lately, I have found myself noticing just how grown your sisters suddenly look. It makes me both wistful and joyful. I long for their small hands and little voices while being completely enamored with their cleverness and curiosity. Alongside it all, I wonder who you would be becoming. Would you declare homemade Mac and Cheese too cheesy or devour a book so quickly like Rose? Would you pick up the moves for cheer club, no problem, or try to get everything right on the first try like Ellie? Maybe you’d climb fearlessly or declare, “I no yike it!” like Mia. Perhaps you’d be a mix of all three or entirely, uniquely you.
I like to imagine it sometimes. I don’t have too much to go on, but I still think your favorite fruit would be strawberries. I think you’d enjoy playing a part in the incredible worlds your sisters create together. I imagine you’d love arts and crafts as much as me. I wonder if your dance moves would’ve taken after mine or your dad’s. Either way, I’m sure you’d love to show them off at our kitchen and living room dance parties.
For you, this is the second big one. The first was your first birthday. It was painful for me, for all of us really, with the wounds still so incredibly fresh. Somehow, now we’re already at five… a WHOLE hand. I don’t truly know how it turned out to be simultaneously the slowest and fastest five years of my life. I wished for the pain and the aching to dim. I also knew they wouldn’t because the love and longing had no chance of dimming. I can’t believe we’d be sending you to school after this summer. Sometimes, when Mia tries to climb onto the bus after Ellie and Rose, I think about what it would be like to have you dreaming of joining them too. Promising that your time was coming entirely too soon for my Mama heart to bear. I feel a little bit sad all the time knowing you’ll never get to climb those steps. The same way I feel a little bit sad all the time knowing that I don’t get to keep a single version of your sisters. In the same way that you’re stuck always being my baby, they’re stuck always growing into someone new. It’s such a bittersweet thing, to be a mother. Loving every stage, missing the bits that are gone and looking forward to all the beauty yet to come all at once without the time to truly feel any of it properly.
I feel like I live in two worlds at once. One in which every day is both so long and so short. I cling to yesterday and dream of tomorrow while being rushed by today. In the other, I wish I could claw my way back, fear a future without you and drown in today’s sorrows. Both versions are crammed together inside myself. Sometimes they fight for the surface and other times they hold hands and move through our day together. In both worlds I love you more than I describe and as always, I miss you all the time. Happy Birthday baby girl.
Love,
Mommy
Dear Nora 