Yesterday, we celebrated my youngest daughter's NINTH birthday. I put that in all caps because I can't belive that the "baby" is a NINE years old (let alone my other daughter who turned 10 just last month). I was NINE when my dad died. I'm two years older than my dad was when he died at 42, and I was NINE years old. I look at her and realize just how young I was when I lost him. And I realize how incredibly young HE was when he died. Enough about me.
You will not find a sweeter, more genuinely "good" person than my 9 year old. She lights up a room when she's in it. She gets happy for others who have good things happen to them. She shares her things without even thinking about it. And she idolizes her older (by 13 months) sister.
Even getting a simple "sparkly lip gloss" as one of her gifts, she is as excited as if it was a Pony. She's full of joy and wonder and excitement , but most of all , happy.
Last night when she was getting ready for bed, she looked at me and said: " I feel very special". Well, just by the statement alone, you can see that she is.
I know I say it all the time, but you blink, and those little moments are gone forever. I look back at pictures of her from the hospital. Or learning to walk, or not needed a booster seat anymore. . . all gone.
One thing I hope for every day , is that she stays this sweet wonderful person throughout her life and that it will never be gone. The world needs more of her kind.
Happy Birthday E.