Dear Madeline, you are the most incredible person I know. When you were born I felt like we were the only two people in the whole world and that all my life I had been waiting just to meet you. And every day when you wake up and say, “Hi, Mama,” I am so happy to see you and hug you and know that you are ok, and I will wake up every day, no matter where you are, no matter how old you are, and I will be grateful that you are in the world and that I have been so very very blessed to get to love you. And as I have learned from my own family—your family—and, especially from your Ema, that love is endless, boundless, staggering love, and it never goes away or diminishes in intensity. It comes from a place where everything and everyone is sacred and respected and valued, from a place and a belief that we all deserve kindness and attention and forgiveness, and even when we are not perfect or we set our expectations too high and find ourselves disappointed, we must reach out past our own disappointment to discover that whatever we thought was the ideal was always there to begin with and maybe just needed some polishing, some thoughtfulness, some perspective. I love that at six, you tell me on the way out the door that the picture on the cover of your library book might be a Picasso, but, in fact, you say, it looks too real for a Picasso because he didn’t make things that look real. I love that you know words like “thrilling” and “calamity” and that you think it is terribly exciting to think about being a trickster when you grow up because you love trickster characters in stories. I love how you sing the muffin song and how you say, “Oh, Mommy!” with impish disdain when I call it the cupcake song. I love that you always want to try and learn new things—like wanting to learn to rock climb and surf and do multiplication and try eggplant and bok choy. And how you want to go to China and London and Hawaii and back to South Dakota because we need a vacation. I love how you try to make me laugh at night before you fall asleep, so you can stay awake longer. I love how you remember even the tiniest of details and make connections I would never think of.
Small child you fill our lives with your fondness for rainbows and animals, mud puddles and pine cones, hip hop dance and tree bark, imitating voices--your perfect southern accent. I will show you the gentle glow of sunsets and sea glass, uncovering the mystery of an ocean whisper in a conch shell, charting the growth of summer in seedlings and luscious tomatoes. There must be belief in the tiniest of efforts, in the magnificence of castles, language on the page and paintings on everything! the way you hear music everywhere and stop to admire lilacs. You are amazing. And I will always, always believe in you.
LOVE YOU ALL- such beautiful words!
Posted by: Auntie Jo | Friday, May 20, 2011 at 10:49 PM
Happy Birthday Niecy Bean! I love you so very much!
Posted by: Auntie Jo | Friday, May 20, 2011 at 10:49 PM
What a lucky girl to have such a wonderful mommy who writes such beautiful things for you to read someday when you're bigger! What a treasure! Happy birthday, child of our hearts.
Love, Grandma Zona and Grandpa Pat
Posted by: grandpa pat and grandma 'zona | Saturday, May 21, 2011 at 12:59 AM
Jen, you have such a beautiful way with words. You always tug at my heart strings. Now that you have your own little girl you know how much I love all my three girls.
Posted by: Grandma | Wednesday, May 25, 2011 at 06:00 AM