Tuesday, August 19, 2008

a birthday letter.

sweet b,
are you really four? are you the same little boy that daddy and i welcomed into our arms a few years ago. i have a few vivid memories of the day you were born- but the one that comes back clear to me today was the way the sun streaked into our room as dr. irwin held you up for me to see after you took your first breath. you were born late in the afternoon and our room had big windows overlooking the courtyard of the hospital- the drapes were pulled as wide as they would go- i suppose it is fitting that sunshine seemed to announce you, because that is what you have become to us.

you thrive on making us smile- you are most content when you feel delighted in- when you are given a choice you'll often choose what you know others would like, just to make them happy---like when you counted all of your birthday money and realized (i'm sure atlee hinted) that you had enough to buy her favorite toy-you came running to me so excited yelling "i want to buy something for at-wee- i have enough!!"

a few days ago i served you fruit salad with your lunch, i disappeared for a few minutes and walked back into the kitchen to find that you had dumped your entire bowl onto the rug under our table- you told me that you were looking for more mangos-my annoyance spread like the blueberry juice that was seeping into my new sand colored rug. i am quite sure that you realized this because after we had cleaned it all up you asked me my favorite color and then a few minutes later you brought me a piece of notebook paper with blue and pink scribbles all over it- it wasn't your best work, but it is currently my favorite piece of art. i hung it by my desk to remind myself how much you want to please me- and how sensitive you are to my disapproval. although at times you need correction, i want you to feel confident of all the good i see in you- and of the big love i feel for you.

nearly every night i find myself staring at you as you sleep- your peaceful rest and your precious little face...you don't even budge as i stroke your cheek and kiss your forehead. happy, happy birthday little love.

Life in the Inn full of Andersons