Thursday, January 24, 2008

A Letter to Julia, 2008

(My much admired friend, Nikki, wrote a letter to her precious girl last month on her birthday. This is just one more great idea I have borrowed from her.)

My dear Julia,
You will be six today. When I awaken you in less than 2 hours, you will untangle yourself out from under two blankets and a quilt with a sleepy grin knowing today is special. If I could only make you understand how special. Today is significant, not only because you are 6, officially in 3 hours, but because now we have had you as long as we waited for you. There is no measuring “how worth the wait” you have been. Six years ago this morning (at 6:45 am), your Daddy and I were fully dressed and perched on the side of a hotel bed in Shreveport, Louisiana ready to “take off” as soon as we felt it wasn’t too early to get to the hospital. With diaper bag packed with stuff we wouldn’t have needed in a million years, cameras loaded and ready, and prayers uttered with every breath, we headed for the hospital to begin one of the most thrilling adventures of our 30 some odd years.

So, today, you are six and this momma who wondered if she would ever get to experience motherhood is, OFF the charts, in love with you. From the times of singing the “Julia song” to you in your nursery to, now, reading in the window seat, you have stolen my heart again and again with your big brown eyes that have a vocabulary all their own, a smile that rivals the sun and cute mouth that surprises us almost everyday by what emerges from it.
This morning before we burst into your room to begin your big day with Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I want to make some notes for you, Daddy and me about this last year.

You kicked the year off with the most significant event of your life, past and future, by being baptized. Your Daddy got to do it, I took pictures through blurry eyes, and Brighton just wanted to “get in with ‘dem’ and swim”. You lost your first tooth (we are at 3 now) with your new grin reminding us of how exciting that milestone is. You sewed your first dress (pink, of course) with the amazing Mrs. Cox and therefore were in your first fashion show. At barely 5, you walked the “T” like a pro, looked adorable and were praised by Mrs. Cox for your impeccable hand-stitched hemming. You highly anticipated your 2nd ballet recital and danced gracefully for both performances. I secretly marveled at how beautifully you held your hands and fingers through out the dances… something I had always wished I could do. Daddy got our family a boat this year and your reaction almost matched his excitement. Your enthusiasm for all things boating made the trips completely enjoyable, whether the boat worked or not! You have 2 more weddings under your belt, one of which you turned into the Dancing Queen, twirling the night away with a boy your Daddy likes to call “twerp”. ; ) As far as our biggest change this year, you have been a great student…….if only I were a great teacher. You have been more than patient with this first year teacher.

Last night, I had to pick out your presents from several I had accumulated for “now and later”. As I sat on the den floor, surrounded by some of your favorite things, I asked your Daddy which ones to wrap for your birthday and which ones to hold on to for later. His response was a typical one from him. “Wrap them all…………. she’s cute.” His affection for you is heart warming from anyone’s angle.

So how did we get to the point where I am vacuuming sewing notions from your bedroom floor, sitting across from you at Ruffino’s watching you properly cut into a pickled beet topped with goat cheese, hearing you say you want “plain” underwear and “plain” sunglasses “like yours”, seeing you finally fit into my old ballet costumes, depending on you when I am pinched for time. Thank you for being such a joy, for bearing with me in love, for loving me in spite of my failures, for being a good big sister to Brighton, who adores you and for caring about what God thinks. You are a jewel, little one and I am so proud to be your Mother.
(The picture at the top is one from the summer on St. George Island -- my favorite shot of the year.)


"Bluebonnet in the snow" said...

I read this post through blurry, tear-filled eyes. What a sweet sentiment that Julia will have to hold onto and read with her own tear-filled eyes when she's my age. Beautiful words. I hope Julia has a wonderful birthday, complete with snow (but only if she wants it as much as I do)!

Anonymous said...

To Krista's mom:
You raised a wonderful, incredibly sensitive, and grace-filled daughter. She inspires me to be a better mom.
The pasta girl

Anonymous said...


nikki said...

this made me cry. so sweet!!