Dear Abigail,
You are six now. In some ways it feels like you are sixteen. As I think about the last year, I think about the person you’ve become, and it makes me beam with pride. There are early mornings when you still crawl into bed with me, and I pull you in close to me, wondering how much longer I’ll get to enjoy these moments. It’s in these moments when nothing and everything is said at the same time. When I feel like we just get each other. And I hope from the depths of my soul that when you are sixteen - or twenty six, or thirty-six, or sixty-six - that we will still just get each other. As I tucked you in for your last night as a five year old, I secretly prayed that six year old Abby will still cuddle up next to me and ask me to rub her back. That she will still want me to read to her. That she will still reach out to hold my hand every once in a while.
It’s hard to believe that I’m writing you another birthday letter from the depths of a worldwide pandemic. So much has changed around you, and you’ve been so incredibly strong. You’ve transitioned from our beloved home daycare to kindergarten (!) at a different school than your best friend. You’ve watched your grandparents decide that they want to live in separate places. You’ve had changing schedules with me returning to a more normal work schedule and your dad transitioning to the day shift. You’ve also dealt with the ever-changing “rules” of this pandemic. You’re at an age where you understand a lot. You ask questions - often incredibly deep ones. What’s been hard about this year is not always having the answers for you. But we talk about that, too. And I hope that even when I don’t have the answers for you, you keep asking me the questions.
Despite all that’s been hard this year, there has been so much that has brought us joy, too. Our family bought our first camper, and we started a new adventure! I’ve loved watching you gain independence as you walked to the park by yourself, started swimming on your own, and stayed up late around the campfire with your Dad. You love to confidently ride your bike, and you love a good s’more! Starting kindergarten has been another big adventure! You love school! You were nervous at first, but were also so brave. I love hearing about what you’re learning - from the story of the Mayflower to the beginning of addition. You’ve always been a reader, but you’re gaining independence with your reading - and your writing. I always love finding little notes and messages from you. Perhaps the most joy I’ve had this year has been in watching how confident you’ve become. From tee ball and gymnastics to picking out your own clothes and doing your own hair, you are finding and defining yourself. As a mom, it can be scary to feel like your baby, especially the first one, is becoming their own person because that may mean they are no longer as dependent on you. But that’s ok. I’m still right here - watching close by as you continue to grow into the you that you love! The you who loves carrying a notebook and pencil everywhere she goes. The you who likes to pour her own bowl of cereal. The you who lets her sisters snuggle up on her. The you who loves taking pictures on her camera, filling the walkway with chalk drawings, and winning every time she gets her hands on a claw machine at the arcade. The you who sometimes needs quiet time or alone time. The you loves reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and the you who comes racing off the bus to ask, “How was your day, mama?” I love watching it all.
I often talk about the changes and the new things in these birthday letters, but perhaps what I want to share most this year is one thing that has not changed - and that is the deep kindness and empathy that is at the core of who you are. We started talking a lot about empathy this year. We talk about it as your super power. One day you told me, “Mama, I just feel all the feelings right now,” and it took my breath away. Abby, I know it’s hard sometimes to feel as deeply as you do. I know it might feel like you’re carrying so much. But sweet girl, please know that it is your empathy that makes you great. It is your empathy that will guide you toward a future where you will be making our world a better place - I just know it.
So today Abigail, on your sixth birthday, I am embracing and celebrating all parts of you - the independent young woman who loves to share her thoughts, opinions, and dreams - and the sweet baby girl who still isn’t too big to say, “Mama, I need you.” My love, as you walk forward and do big things with that big heart of yours, please know that any time you look back, my hand will be outstretched and ready to hold yours any and every time you need it. I get you. And I love everything about you, birthday girl.
Love,
Mama
xxx