My beautiful Linen James,
My first baby and the one who made ma a mama. The one who changed our life in the most beautiful way and gave it more meaning than ever before. You came into the world in a time where everything felt uncertain, yet I’d never been more certain of anything – you were the one we’d waited on. Every month that went by, every negative pregnancy test, every prayer that felt unanswered was preparing my heart for you. Each and every day, you’ve healed parts of me simply by existing. We’ve taught each other, you more than me, created our own little language, and started + ended each day side by side. Your light, in every sense of the word, has brightened everything from our home to our hearts.
Five years later and I love everything about who you are. I love that you still run to me each morning and want to be picked up. I love how particular you are with your room and the things that are “special to you”, always safeguarding and protecting what brings you joy. I love the helper you are and how you can already cook better than mama. I love the little freckles that have suddenly shown up on your cheeks. I love that you ask to get in the bath with me each night because it’s where we find calm. I love our heart to hearts at bedtime and how you take in every word. I love that you’re able to truly rest – to slow down and just be. Never lose that. I love that you always sit on the counter with me while I get ready, just so we can be together. I love the sissy you are to Stable + Port and how you care for them in such a thoughtful way, knowing what they need as much as I do. Sometimes, more than I do. I love how goofy you are and how you squeal when you laugh. I love that you choose people from the moment you meet them and love them so hard. That decisiveness will serve you so well in life. I love that the warmth of the sunshine has always had a way of calming you. I love that you constantly ask us to take you back to ‘The Claza’ (Plaza). I love the way you say certain phrases slightly incorrect and I’ll never tell you otherwise. I love how your little arms and hands still have baby fat. I love how your face lights up when daddy walks through the door. I love how empathetic that big heart of yours is and how strongly you feel things. I love that you love a house full of our favorite people, just like mama. I love that you ‘love me bigger than the whole city’ and I’ll take being your favorite person as the honor it is for as long as I possibly can.
Every season of the last five years has felt like a transition I’m unsure if I’m ready for. A constant balance of holding on and letting go. Teaching you, in the best way I know how, yet hoping you’ll still need me for all of it. From crawling to walking, from diapers to potty training, from first words to carrying on conversations – the truth is, the growth is inevitable. It’s the most bittersweet thing in the world to feel a “last” after it’s happened, blissfully hoping there’s something equally as exciting on the other side of it. And somehow, there always is.
Of all the transitions, this one might be the hardest one yet. From your crib to a big girl bed, from preschool to kindergarten, you are (in your words) finally five. You and I both know I won’t deal with this one well, but I promise to always put you first. To hold your hand tighter than ever, only letting go when you’re ready. I promise to pray over you every second you’re not in my arms and be there with them open wide at the end of each day. I promise to listen, to help you navigate anything, and always be the loudest voice in your head.
Your love is a love that changes people. It’s full of kindness and grace and I know you’ll be brave enough to share it with the world. You are so intentional, so thoughtful, and so eager to find the good in everything and everyone. You’re going to soar this year, Linen James, and I will love you every step of the way. You are all the best parts of me and I’m so proud to be your mama. Always.
I love you forever, my angel girl.