Happy 11th Birthday, Calleigh

My Sweet Calleigh Bird,

Tomorrow, you turn 11. I'm not sure how this happened. It wasn't that long ago we were bringing you home, learning how to be parents, and now, we've crossed the half-way mark. You'll live with us for about eight more years and then you'll be gone. And honestly, a few of those precious eight years you won't be with us, making us laugh, drawing pictures at the kitchen table, and sharing your hopes and dreams. You'll be off with friends and out and about. So I kind of want to grab you as you walk by and pull you onto my lap and never let go. But that's creepy and impractical so I will soak you up. I'll sniff your hair when you're close. I'll stop whatever I'm doing to play a game. I'll listen intently as you tell me a story. And I'll will time to stop in its tracks or at least slow down.

As much as I begrudge time for constantly moving forward, I do cherish the ways you've grown and developed. You have a deep and impossibly convincing belief in Santa, the Tooth Fairy and, really, all Fae folk. Either your friends and the world have hardened your heart and you're just the best actress in the world, or you've chosen to believe. Either way, I think you've made the right choice.

Christmas 2014

I love that you love the ocean. And I remind you every time we're there that the sea can remind you of your place and heal a lot of hurts. It puts life in perspective and is a great medicine. And it's fun.

  

You've accepted that you can be both a tomboy and a girly girl. I hope you never feel you have to choose just one. Neither the aisles at Target nor the world can label this girl.

  

You write me notes. Sometimes they make me laugh:

And I've gotten more than one like this (you come by your anger and temper issues honestly. You can thank your Irish heritage.):

Know this:  I keep every one.

You believe in angels. It started when you were very young, maybe two or three years old. You'd just started talking and were obsessed with Disney Princesses. We were reading Cinderella and got to the last page where she gets married. You pointed to her dress excitedly and said, "angel!" I said somewhat bewildered "you think she looks like an angel?" And you answered, "no, Mommy, that's what the angels look like. They come in my room at night." Got chill bumps yet? Welcome to our world. Nowadays, you don't talk as much about the angels that way. I hope they haven't stopped coming to tell you good night. But I love that you appreciate them and fully believe and know that they walk our paths with us, guiding and protecting.

Calleigh: "Do you know who this is?"
Mommy: "An angel?"
C: "No. It's Grandmama." Angel indeed. 

Although I miss my mother so very much and think of her every, single day, I see so much of her in you. In your dimple and sweet smile, in your random acts of kindness, oh, and your temper. She would be so proud of you and the young woman you're becoming.

So, baby girl, while you're unwrapping presents and blowing out candles, I'll be watching you intently. At once, I'll see a baby who was more interested in the cards than the gifts at her first birthday party, and I'll see a teenager running out the door saying over her shoulder, "see ya later...I'm going to meet some friends" and feeling the stab of the mother who whispers after the door closes, "but it's your birthday. I thought we'd..." I know how slowly time seems to pass when you're waiting to be 12 or 15 or 18 or 21. But I also know how quickly time can pass when you love someone so desperately, so completely. Let me take "just one more picture" and let me hug you and maybe even sneak in a quick head sniff.

  

August 27, 2004

Birdie, you make every day special, just by being in it. I love you.

Mommy