Though this is something you will likely never read, I wanted to mark history that today you did something that most children never find the words, the time, or the willingness to do. Today you thanked me in a handwritten letter for something that is my honor and my privilege to do.
You’d been asking daddy and I to open an orange letter since you got home from church, we were hustled with laundry and errands and visiting family and using the computer and giving you guys baths that it wasn’t until 8PM that we finally got around to doing as you asked.
As I began to read the tiny undeveloped cursive handwriting the tears whelmed up in my eyes and worried that you’d done something wrong, you hugged me and looked at me sort of confused.
“Thank you for providing me (and Brooke) a home, bed, and toys.”
“Thank you for bringing me to church…I appreciate all of it”
In that very moment I became so disappointed in myself for not opening this letter when you’d asked me to several hours earlier. How you’d had something you wanted to say all day long, and I brushed it aside for things that could have surely waited. This small token of your gratitude should have been made a priority.
“…..thank you for being there for me. I love you.
Thank you for rhenna and for being my parents”
And how precious these word are, coming only mere months from your start of middle school – how we’ll undoubtedly fight over friends, and skirt lengths, and your cell phone bill. How I’m sure that there will be days when we doubt each others feelings, times when we can’t be in the same room with each other… lessons that we’ll learn together. I know tears will fall and words will be exchanged, but this one letter, this simple attempt, that is now framed forever, will serve as my reminder that somewhere down deep in there, you know that I love you, and that all your daddy and I do, is for you girls.
More than anything else, as I closed the letter, I silently promised you this:
You will always be my priority – you will never have to wait for me to “make time” to share your gifts.
No Brittani, you rock. I’m perpetually blessed, eternally grateful, and indisputably the luckiest mother that ever was.