The job loss, the pandemic, the struggle that seems to have us always in the waiting.
My love, I can’t imagine these trials without you beside me.
When this world has been turned upside down, I find myself grateful that you came along. Your presence makes possibilities endless.
I long for days when porch swings and miles up mountains fill our moments. But until that day is here, as we raise young women and watch the everyday beauty unfold, I will feel more hopeful then blue.
Years of abandonement mean aches and pains that must be treated.
We know her war wounds and trust that this is where we are meant to be.
She will require years of hard labor.
Days will be spent digging and grating and hauling away the signs of neglect.
Who better to rebuild a broken space then those who understand how scars become beauty marks?
As we manage the unending waiting game of will we or won’t we get an offer on the place we live today, we will be content with our dreams about the day that old house gets to welcome us home.
The horse we own, the husband whose work is with the land and the children who desire to live outside more then in. Yet we remained in our beautiful suburban community, in all 3700 square feet of a house we really didn’t “need”. We have stayed because it is “comfortable”.
Like many, the weeks at home have found us contemplating things that mean the most to us. We began to dream about what life could look like living with those things at our center.
That is how we found ourselves one beautiful Sunday afternoon walking through the doors of a farmhouse for sale.
As we explored the house, the two barns and the 17 acres of farmland, forest and stream, all eight of us felt joy settle deep in the soul.
We offered what we thought was reasonable and now we find ourselves in contract.
There are steps still left in the process, a house to sell in a beautiful suburban community, but we are hopeful in months time we will have a new place to call home.
I don’t know what your cry sounded like at birth or what your favorite baby food was.
I missed first steps, first days of school and five hundred other firsts, but I am grateful that I get to be here today.
Watching you transform into this confident, funny and thoughtful young lady is one of the greatest gifts of my life. I can’t take credit for a single second of who you are becoming, but I get the profound privaledge of watching life unfold for you.
I know sometimes our relationship must feel awkward. I am this woman that walked into your world at 10 and upended life as you knew it.
Thank you for forgiving me for my failings. For understanding when I don’t say the right things or how I sometimes serve raw meat for dinner. Thank you for teaching me that love comes at different times and in many different packages.
I am so happy we get to do life together.
For your thirteenth year I wish for you more late nights laughing with your sisters, more inside jokes and crushes on boys, more stargazing, more growing in grace, more tiaras, more tutus and less worrying about what others may be thinking of you.
I get prouder of you with every passing year.
Happy birthday beautiful girl. I love you more then words can say.
Love,
H.
Momma.
P.S. Can I say I am patting myself on the back with this year’s pick? Couldn’t have said it better myself.
There was a former work colleague who lived a life of faith.
Invitations extended to daily mass, philosophical debates about the eucharist and eternal life, all while sipping coffee at Clementine’s.
“So I should thank him for you and I meeting?” Matt spoke last night.
Instantly reminded of the role others played in leading us to this life lived here.
The connections that covered me in love and brought me a husband and three more beautiful girls.
In a world that teaches us to wear independence as a badge of honor we ignore the truth- it is only by walking with others that we are able to understand who we are called to be.
He warned me once about the fate of some neighborhood trees. He spoke of how they would fall.
A new house in our community had been built; tall pines cut down to make room for it.
Where there had once been a rich forest only a few remained.
Matthew told me of how the trees that had grown accustomed to the shelter provided by others would now be left vulnerable.
No sooner had the first major storm passed than one of the remaining pines found itself on the brand new roof.
I think of Matthew’s words often.
The analogy fitting.
As we stand two years into building our family, I am reminded of how we predicted the rains and the winds, but underestimated the forest that surrounded us.
They can’t stop the storm, but they bear the brunt of it’s beating.
During a week when the forecast is particularly brutal, I find myself filled with gratitude for the gifts of those who stand beside us. May we one day be their forest.
It was just last month when I realized you had made that transition from girl to young woman. We were waiting for you to perform at your recital. I caught you in your chair taking deep breathes. I assumed your were nervous. When I asked you got a silly smile on your face and told me you were doing the breathing exercises your teacher had taught you. Then you walked up front, played your guitar and belted out your song. Your confidence in your craft was impressive, but more than that it was your independence. You had this. Why would I doubt?
So today beautiful girl you turn thirteen and I can’t but help remember the baby you were. Your Papi said you looked like a cabbage patch doll and with the round face and big blue eyes you really did.
You’ve been a gift from the moment your graced our world. You have always been easygoing.
You roll with the punches and you teach your rigid Momma to do the same.
Your world is big and your heart is even bigger.
Thank you for loving all of us so effortlessly.
The way you reach out to cuddle and care even when we are at our prickliest, is pretty special.
This year will hold great things for you, I just know it.
Keep in mind I am along for the ride. There will be more date nights, conversations about good books and dance parties in the kitchen.
I love you baby girl.
I am so proud to be your Momma.
Happy 13!
Love,
Momma
PS- In appreciation for both the words and the talent behind the guitar, it had to be Cat Stevens for this year’s birthday song.
