eight years

Today we had a birthday party for my biggest girl: the girl who made me a mother for the first time, the girl who unlocked a passion I never knew I had.  I love being her mother.

During Mia’s party, Anna asked for a nap.  As I nursed her to sleep in the big bed I heard laughter and chatting in the next room.  Time stopped.  Here in my house, at the same time, were so many people that I love.  The are alive and healthy and here, ranging in ages that span nearly a century.  I wanted to hold my breath; I wanted it to last.  But life moves, and so it is.  We cannot hold it back.

I love my people. They give my life its sweetness.  They made today a lovely and memorable day.

Happy 8th birthday, Mia.

The mountain ash with fresh snow on its berries, just outside our front door today.
Make a wish, Mia!
Mia ready to eat her mint-green, lemon-curd cake with buttercream frosting that she and Lish made together, while auntie Daja and special friend Adam look on.
A special gift from Adam: a diary with a fancy pen.
Happy birthday, my sweet eight-year-old.

Much love and gratitude.


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