Coming of Age

Tomorrow my littlest girl will turn 7.

This is the very last time that I will have a child turn 7.

I sit next to her now as she reads to me from one of her favorite books. I take great pride in the fact that I taught her how to read, as I have taught all my children how to read. She stumbles over only a few of the harder words in her book. She is finally starting to sound out the words she sees instead of guessing at the word based on the beginning letter and her vocabulary.

I have enjoyed giving her this gift.

I am also a little sad that this part of her learning is going past so fast. I know in my heart that she is growing older each day and that each time she does something for the first time, for me it is the very last first time I will get to experience it.

She is the baby of the family, very much wanted and loved and longed for. Gotten through extremes of medical science and at the end of a very long struggle.

We love her for who she is and for who I hope for her to become.

She is my youngest daughter and in her I see myself, my husband, his mother and father, my mother and father, and all of the generations of mothers and fathers that came before them. In her is the culmination of love and life come to fruition.

Oh yes, she is loved. By many. By me.

Happy Birthday, BoogaLou.

Mommy loves you.


May 17, 2010. Notebook.

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