Dear Bria_6

 

May 9, 2021

Dear Bria, 

Dirtinger digger, worm rescuer, snacker of fruit, yogurt, and chocolate chips. 

You are determined, kind, and the silliest of silly. 

An almost night-owl, and slow riser in the mornings, demanding only the same small “elsa braid” to hold back that wild bed-head that is constantly your hair. 

Busy, builder, champion of Uno and Go Fish. 

You feel lots, and you feel it big, and you are not afraid to let your heart show – its blue skies, its stormy frustration, its rainy days. You share it all. 

Queen of cotton dresses, a budding book worm, a glowing giggler in the spotlight, relishing its warmth and laughter. 

You call “Come snuggle me, Dad!” at night and yell “Sorry Dave!” in board games. 

A laugh that can’t catch its breath. 

A toothless mouth. 

A purple room.

You wish we had named you Rosie, so you have named every worm and animal you hold Rosalina without question. 

A sneakers-with-the fancy-dress kind of kid. 

A always-find-the-mud-puddle kind of kid. 

Somehow cautious and fearless simultaneously – ready to jump right off the board no matter how cold the water is while watching and worrying that the slip and slide might blow away as it dried on the fence no matter how we reassure you. 

Big sister bossiness; little sister lamenting, but so much love, so much playing, so many ways you look out for your brother and sister. 

Family matters; your people matter deeply to you. 

An expert at speech, a lover of letters, a pajama princess. 

An anticipator. A processor. 

A nonstop talker. 

A little me. 

You flourish at the farmhouse. 

You dream of Disney World. 

You remember those we miss. 

You soak in stories, asking for them over and over. 

Goofy, grinning, so utterly you, 

Six years into this life,

And girl, you’ve got it. 

You’ve had our hearts since you were barely 5 pounds in our arms,

And every day since. 

I love you birthday girl,

Mom