You asked me yesterday if I thought you would ever grow up. I told you I hoped not. You were offended, thinking I thought you were immature, but that was hardly the case. I think you are perfect. I really don’t want you to grow up because I want you to stay here with me always. My selfish mama ways. But I also said it in hopes that you will somehow retain that magic within you, that I can only describe as little girl magic, where the world is full of possibilities, and life is full of fun and awe.
I know in your life so far you have seen too many of the difficult things this life has to offer, but I watch you discovering some of the wonderful things too, like driving a car and surfing in Hawaii and having a sweet puppy sleep inside your sweatshirt. I love to watch your utter delight and that is the magic that I hope doesn’t grow up.
You are sixteen today and it hardly seems possible. It seems like just yesterday that you were that little cherub who liked to rub spaghetti into your hair, or the little girl in the velvet dress that you occasionally refused to wear, telling me that the dress “didn’t dance.” I can still see you in your red velvet skating dress giggling as your dad lay on his back using your wiggly, giggly little body as his bench press. He was so proud of you, in awe really. I imagine he still is, and is rejoicing your birthday today too. He’s probably hired an entire Angel band to sing for you his song of love.
I’m watching you grow into an amazing, mature adult, so full of life and humour and silliness. Somehow you are managing to keep that wonderful child within you alive and that is your charm and your gift to us all.
Happy Birthday Mousie. I love you.