June 26, 2015

Iole was born the colour of a peach.  She was tiny and beautiful. I loved the baby in my belly so much that it came as a shock when I didn’t feel much for the baby in my arms. But in time the love came, and when it did, it poured out of me like water released from a dam. My daughter is one of the most capable people I know. And believe me, as my first child and the eldest of three, she’s had to pick things up fast. She is resilient, patient, beautiful and kind. Her smile lights up a thousand rooms, and when she cries, and she very rarely cries, my hearts swells to double the size. She turns six on Saturday, and it’s all sorts of amazing to me that she was ever tiny enough to fit inside my body, and that she’s now riding a bicycle and spreading jam on toast. She’s been sick this week with a virus that’s left her with a nasty red rash and an uncharacteristic need for closeness. I feel bad that she’s not well, but weirdly, I’ve enjoyed the week. As we walked around our neighbourhood, it felt wonderful just to hold her hand, something she usually thinks she’s too grown up for. But this week, we held hands a lot. And I realized just how very small her hands still are. Happy Birthday, my sunbeam. You light up my world.











  • b.

    beautifully written, and just plum beautiful. you’re lucky to have each other! happy birthday iole!

  • Buket

    I cried reading these beautiful words. Iole will be so happy reading them herself one day. Love to you and your sunbeam.

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