Birthdays and Books

I have a thing for books.  Once you get to know me, you'll realize there are boxes of them in the garage, waiting to be displayed lovingly once again... once I have enough shelves to accommodate them.  I teach university courses online, and in some of those classes we only have e-books.  I'm saddened that I can't just leaf through it, to find bits of wisdom that might change my thinking forever. 

I love birthdays too.  Each year for my birthday-eve, since I was 15 years-old, I would curl up in bed, and ponder the year before.  I'd think about what had happened, what path I was on... but most importantly look to the year ahead.  It sounds a bit corny to write, but I'd also give each year a focus, a direction-- a name that would describe what that year I was looking for.  No examples here. Just your imagination.  :)

So, when Eva was born, it seemed fitting to write for her.  I found a sweet leather-bound journal and tearfully poured out my heart to her in a letter on the first pages.  The rest were yet to be written. I found the same sweet journal for Lucia when she was born.  Each year, on their birthdays (or, well let's be honest--sometimes a couple weeks after) I write them a "love letter." I reminisce about the special things they have done, their personalities and how they are developing, and my hopes for them.  It's my hope that they'll never know I'm doing it, until maybe their 16th or 18th birthdays (seriously, if you know Eva and Luci... ix-ney on the elling-tay!).  It's my hope that there's a glimpse in each letter of a piece of their childhood, part of who they were... those little things that can be forgotten so quickly and never caught in a baby-book, photo or birthday card.  It's my hope that they will also glean even just an ounce of how meaningful and overwhelming it has been for me to be their mother.  To help them realize this is such an honor. 

Lucia's birthday was last week, and yep-- I'm still needing to do my letter for Age 4.  But, that's okay.  I will.  At first I was so convinced that it would be forever ruined if I didn't actually write it on her birthday.  But... it actually is okay.  Sometimes I think we find the meaningful moments, the little things are too hard-- so much so that we just decide not to do it after all.  But, if I loosen the reigns a bit... I realize, sure enough, those special treasures... happen.