I had no idea
that you would
stun me
like you did.
No one
ever told me
you would be
so alive,
so active.
That moment,
how it feels,
must be
a secret
shared only
between parents.
But there you were,
not an abstract
ink blot
on a monitor,
not something
to be anticipated,
but someone
to be observed.
I love you,
little one,
now and forever.
Nothing
you ever say
or do
will change
that.
Welcome
to this family,
welcome
to this life.
It will have
many difficulties,
but more celebrations,
many fears,
but more triumphs.
Do not
take yourself
too seriously,
but remember
to smile
and laugh.
In the end,
we are all
wailing children
of God’s,
who often
do not know
why
we are crying
or what
would satisfy
if we did.
Telling you of
this dependency
of ours
is meant to lighten
your load,
not increase it.
If you ever
feel the weight
of the world
on your shoulders,
shrug it off;
it shouldn’t
be there.
Carry only
the load
that is intended
for you,
traveling light
with worries
and heavy
with joyful moments
and people
who affirm
your deepest,
truest self.
Take care,
even when
I am no longer
with you,
and know
that I am cheering
you on, always,
beaming
with joy
that I had
the privilege
of looking after you
for the time
that I did.
Praise be to God.