Five Looks Good On You

BIRTHDAY: the anniversary of the day someone was born


Dear Daughter,

Five years ago today, I held you for the first time. 

It wasn’t a picture perfect moment.  We met in a cold and sterile operating room surrounded by doctors debating whether or not to give me a blood transfusion.  I had just puked from the anesthesia.  Dad was out in the hallway trying not to pass out.  The only thing perfect about the moment was you. 

I loved you because you were my daughter and I was your mother.  That was all I needed to know.  Just like you, my list of things I love about you has grown in the years since our first meeting.   

I love the dimple in your left cheek that only appears when you are truly delighted and the way your hair sticks to your damp cheek in the first moments of waking. I love that you brush the hair out of your eyes in clusters of three.

I love the way music bubbles to the surface when you play and the way you can’t avoid tapping or swaying or wiggling when you hear a good song.  I love that you read the liner notes while you listen to a CD. 

I love that you can’t resist picking up fallen flower petals from the sidewalk and that you still fell a sense of loss when they eventually shrivel. I love the way you throw yourself into play with such abandon. 

I love that you ask “Get it?” after every joke you tell and that you make others work hard for a laugh.  I love that you put your hand over your mouth when you giggle. 

I love you in ways big and small.

Five looks good on you.

Happy Birthday!





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