BamamaPancakes

November 28, 2018 Dear Abram, This is the third year I’ve sat in the soft glow of our Christmas tree, writing you a letter, both with tears falling for what we lost and warm gratitude for what we have and will always have of you. Every season has you in it. Spring brings the reminder of when we thought you would arrive with the first of the flowers and the light green of a new season. Summer is when we found out we were pregnant with you, those trips to the beach climbing the sand dunes and watching the waves with you still unannounced in my belly, a joyful family secret. Fall brought a growing belly, your kicks, anticipation of being a family of 5; I remember after we knew you couldn’t survive…sometime in mid-November, feeling like I was in a fog of disbelief as I watched the girls jump in leaf piles, thinking how can this be happening to our baby. Thanksgiving, the gathering of all our family, hoping to surround you with as much love as we could in the time w...

Dear Adalyn, I had to wait until I found “aqua” as a color I could write in because that’s your favorite color right now. You think it’s awesome, and point it out everywhere you see it. It’s one of the many, many things I love about you right now. I can’t believe you’re 6 this year. Every year, I’m amazed that you’re another year older, as though time would actually stop and freeze you at 1 when you just toddled around climbing anything you could or 3 when you never stopped singing Let It Go, or even last year when you changed outfits at least six hundred times a day. The years start to run together, and whether you read these letters or not, I’m relieved to have them because one day I will read them and remember the phases, the phrases, the things that made you you , year after year. You are six. And honestly, it’s been a big year. You started your last year at preschool with Mrs. Padgett, whom you and your buddies called “Teacher” and adored. Your favor...