leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A note to Paisley A note to Paisley Izabella: (Because for some reason you are floating through my head today. All little girl sweetness and butterfly barrettes.) You are...sunshine. Dear Heavens the way the world lights up when you enter a room. Joy dancing in your eyes like life is endlessly sweet. And it is, when you are two and you have a good mommy and a good daddy. (Because good and loving are two different things and love isn't quite everything though you don't know that yet.) Your soft brown hair and huge blue eyes making you look like a baby doll come to life. Always insisting that mama wear her slippers at the same time you wear yours so that you can be the same. Because mama is Heaven, and love, and cold milk and cookies, and soft songs, and dances, and everything...at least when you are two and your mama is my sweet-voiced gentle sister. Daddy is everything else, excitement, and coming and going, and everything in Spanish so that all things have two names, and letting you wander out further than mama does, because daddy's are braver like that. I love the way your hands are always out, spread-fingered, in that way that means wonder. Such a big word for such a tiny girl. Wonder. The world such a big surprise. Learning constantly like the tick tock of the clock. Watching the look in your eyes go from huh? to wow! a million times a day. Dancing to "peanut-butter jelly time" so that mama and daddy's Saints won't lose the game. Grandpa would be proud...they've taught you about superstition and football already, though you just think you're showing off your moves. There aren't words to say how lovely and perfect you are. Even when you're Scorpio temper shows and you're throwing your tantrums and your toys. Magic trick those crocodile tears of yours, when you aren't really hurt or scared or anything else, but you want to be certain that if you were everyone in the house would come running to offer hugs and kisses and poor-babys and hush-nows. Our fairy princess. Deciding who may hold your baby doll and your cars, and who gets to sit where in the car, and who may or may not hold hands, and who should wear their hat when they go out. We could disagree, but why? You only want to know that even though your voice is little your opinions matter. Your requests are too precious not to heed. And the rewards are kisses and that smile. And anyone who doubts there is a God, would know differently when you smile. I love you baby girl. I hope your life is beautiful. 3:42 p.m. - January 02, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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