I don’t want to forget anything, even the hard stuff. Grammy and Grampy reminisced about raising your Uncle Jacob (9 years younger than me) but couldn’t remember much of the sleepless days. This is why I’m thankful for technology. We can go back, read, and remember. I want to remember. When you ask me to tell you about when you were a baby, I want to tell you as much as I can. I want to tell you that we waved to dad every morning as he went to work and you squealed, smiled, and reached for him every time he came home. I want to tell you that you loved being pushed in your swing on our back porch. That you loved green beans and avocado. That you would hold your stuffed animals by their tails, one in each hand, and swing them around like nunchucks. I’ll tell you that you would pull my hair really hard, but I would wear it down anyway because playing with it helped you fall asleep. I want to tell you everything.
But most of all sweet daughter of mine, I want to tell you how much you’re loved.
|Poor baby not feeling good.|