My first born girl turns 10 today.
Soon I will kiss her 10-year-old cheeks and think how much they still smell like her 9-year-old cheeks.
And I will cry in private moments, wondering how 10 years can pass like wind.
And I will smile telling the stories of her birth and showing pictures of her in all big beautiful brown-eyed glory. And I won’t be able to hug her enough.
I just can’t hug her enough.
Her papa and I will wonder aloud how this happened, and we will call her our Double-Digit Darlin’ — just like my parents called me when I turned 10. She will look in our eyes with a mixture of knowing and questioning, and I might not know if that name makes her feel happy or melancholy, or just accepting.
Our girl will let us sing her happy birthday many times over, and allow her mama to yell from the car window, “My girl is 10!” She will laugh, and her cheeks will turn red, and a lot of pieces of her will love it.
She’ll make sure we know that she is not officially 10 until 10:48 at night, when she’s fallen into sleep and her book has dropped from hand.
I wonder if that waiting for the nighttime turning of the clock to “actual birthday” may be her way of living the last day in the year that was and looking forward to what will be, rather than what is yet.
Somehow, she’s able to live in the tension that makes most people uncomfortable.
She’s got deep fibers, that scientist artist of ours.
And moxy and humility.
And wisdom and understanding far beyond her days.
She’s complex and funny and plucky and strong and tender.
Her laugh fills a room with honey.
Our girl — she’s on the verge of life changing,
and she is so beautiful with her free smile and hair silky flow
behind her,
growing it for girls with cancer.
She is a planner and a no-planner, a let’s hang out in our jammies girl, a leader of friends and little sisters.
A homebody and an adventurer.
A question-asker and way-maker and silly accent-talker.
She is my friend and my delight and our joy.
And so much more than all that.
On the night Sici was born, she slept in my arms and through the night I awoke from wholly satisfied life changed, and over and over I saw her wise eyes — eyes i’d always known — looking right back at me. All through that first night.
From the first, longing for connection. Seeking to understand.
There are no words for this treasure.
She is extraordinary.
Happy birthday, darling girl of my heart.
(The painting above is a self-portrait created by my girl when she was 8.)
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
You have brought tears to my eyes, only a parent can know her daughter as intimate as that. Love her and her parents. Mom
Thank you so much, Mom. We love you, too.
My tears speak what I cannot. I simply cannot. But thank you from the bottom of my heart, Ashley and Mike, for bringing into the world (and raising with such love and such wisdom) this girl that I adore. her nana
Thank you, thank you, Mama Nana.
Dear Sicily is a delight and wonder. You two have done well by her. She is smart,clever, conceptual,questioning,inventive curious,loving and compassionate. She is a delightful treasure. I am so proud to be her Opa.
Thank you so much Papa Opa. I will pass on your loving comments to Sicily, too. Thank you for seeing her in all her complexity. We love you. (Thanks, too, for your ‘happy birthday’ rendition this morning. She was smiling with her mouth stuffed full of breakfast, so you may not have known how much she enjoyed your splendid vibrato.)
You are definitely spree’s daughter… I can hear her voice in yours… This is such a lovely poem, it definitely brought back memories of my own children’s births and brought tears to my eyes (tears of joy) Thanks for this today!! I’m happy to follow you!
Smidge, I’m so happy to see you here! And thank you so much for taking the time to comment. I’m sure I will continue crying those tears as my dear ones grow older. The beauty in their growing and the grieving the growing all mingled together. I am certainly thankful for the “more of them” I’m getting to know as they grow older! Thanks again for your dear words.
Beautiful. I wrote a mom column for the newspaper when my daughter (also my first born) turned double digits as well. My daughter is now 21 and getting married ;)
So good you are capturing these memories in words!
Thanks so much, Cornelia. Precious connection, again. I know someday I will be looking back at the sweet long ago days when she was only 10. :)
Oh how we love our Sicily and her mama! This is such a heart-felt, tender and honest picture of who she is and what she represents to all of us who love her so much!! Thank you for sharing!!
Thank you, Sis. It made me so happy to write this “ode” to my love. :) And I love that you love her like you do — your card and message were so touching. Special Auntie love…thank you.
This blog was written no doubt, intended as a loving gift for a daughter who is passing one of life’s landmark events. But it is also a testament to the Mama who wrote it. Seldom have I ever read words so lovingly, poignantly and sweetly penned they would bring tears to the eyes of all those lucky enough to hear them.
Don, thank you. I am so honored by your comment.
I love how you are so positive! Lately, I feel frustrated with my kiddos and all of the crazy noise. I really appreciate your perspective and how you often, slow down and smell the roses. When times are tough, I need to remember all of the precious moments that have built our family!
Annie, I also have difficulty remaining positive. It’s a continual challenge and choice (isn’t it?) to slow and really see the gifts around us. It’s OK, too, to feel struggle (we’re humans after all), and some days and moments I do better than others. Our struggles remind us of our need for God — His leading, protecting, infilling. We cannot muster it up alone, right?!
I love what you say about remembering the precious moments that have “built our family.” What a true picture that is.
Dearest Ashley – I’ve just tagged you to answer Ten Questions being passed around the table. Hope you won’t mind sharing with the rest of us! xoxo
http://cooking-spree.com/2012/01/12/10-little-monkeys/
Hello, Ashley,
I am a big fan of your mom’s, and a subscriber to her wonderful blog. Your tribute to your 10 year old was inspirational and very beautiful. It is so important to record your feelings and descriptions of children now, because many of those memories become faded with the new experiences that the mind records.
Happy belated birthday, Sici. You’ve got love coming at you from people you don’t even know!
Ronnie
Thank you so much, Ronnie. I am so glad you’ve visited and that you took the time to write. I’m passing on your birthday wishes to my girl. :) You are so right when you say “many of those memories become faded with the new experiences that the mind records.” You put words to it that I’d never formulated that way before. It is so good to remember and record. On another note, yes — isn’t my mama’s blog amazing?
Ashley, thank you for sharing Sicily’s self-portrait, and the glimpse into your mother’s heart. Perhaps it is a family trait, this degree of tenderness with which you see your daughter. I can think of no finer gift.
Carolyn, thank you so much! I love what you say about that family trait. Makes me feel warm, and thankful.
Three generations of gifted, special women. Your love & gratitude for your Sicily is Weaved throughout your writing.
Thank you so much for your dear comment.