September 1

Hey Baby,

Today you are eight years old. Actually at 8:43pm you will be eight. After 27 3/4 hours of labour.

Do you know that every single night I thank God for you? Do you know that everytime I see you, I thank God?

Your heart is just so beautiful. You are so giving and kind. A little crazy sometimes but sweet. And romantic. When you’re romantic, your ‘horns are back’.

You’re at Calypso today with dad. We’re having cheeseburgers. We bought you a practice pad, two sets of drumsticks and a Lego set that you have yet to open. We also bought you a pocket watch from the Flea Market in NY. I can’t wait to take you to NY. I hope you are enthralled with it as we are.

You start grade 3 on Tuesday. My mind and my heart are overwhelmed.

When I was eight, I had already moved 4 times, had been molested on numerous occasions, was afraid at night when I went to sleep, walked two kilometers to school and back, including lunch, each day. In grade three I did a baton routine with Tammy to the song, ‘Boogie Woogie Dancing Shoes’. I did a public speaking contest on ‘Fingerprints’. My dad had taken me to the police station so I could ask questions and they were patient with me.  I had a hard time in school because I couldn’t grasp french and my friends didn’t want to play with me because I couldn’t play dodgeball well. One night I prayed that God would send me a friend. I remember crying, begging for one. And He did.

He is always faithful.

When I think of how…grown-up my mind was back then, I’m jealous of your innocence now. I pray you never have to feel that pain that I did.

Whatever happens, no matter what, know that we pray for you every single day. Every. Single Day.

You are my little heart walking around outside my chest. And I love you.



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