Sixteen years ago today. I didn't know your face yet. I hadn't heard your voice. I loved you - yes. But I didn't know the depth of that love yet. How proud I'd be of all of your accomplishments. How protective I'd be of your heart.
Sixteen years ago today. I hoped you'd be beautiful. You are. I hoped you'd be kind. You are. I hoped you'd be smart and confident and brave and artistic. You are all of these things - and more. You hear music that no one else can hear. You see art in the every day. You have empathy for those around you and those you haven't met. You want to please - yet you also want to do things your way.
Sixteen years ago today. I prayed that I would be a good mother. That I'd know how to take care of you. Know how to teach you all I know about this wonderful and sometimes scary world. Know how to fill you up with love, and knowledge, and all of the things inside my heart. Know how to let you go out into the world when it was time.
Sixteen years ago today. The eve of your birth.
Happy Birthday, Beautiful Girl. I love you.