To Georgia:

Baby girl, you were pretty cranky yesterday at your birthday. Your cheeks were streaked with tears and your little chest puffed up and down in tiredness and frustration. I held you in my bosom and talked softly in your ear so only you could hear me say how much I love you and everything is going to be okay. You calmed down immediately and hugged me. Your arms aren’t long enough to reach around me but your hands are strong enough to grab on to me and you laid your head against my neck and you stopped your paroxysmal cries and nestled deep into my embrace.

I wish I could hold you like that forever. Selfishly I’m glad that for now I’m the only one you believe will keep you safe. Mine are the arms you will reach for when you seek solace, and my face is the one you will search when you need comforting. One day you will leave my embrace and you will seek solace, comfort and peace amongst deep blue lakes, amidst a setting sun in a remote mountainous part of the world, where you will find experience humility and freedom diving amongst fishes and turtles, and exhilaration surfing on a frothing foaming 20 foot wave. Like your dad. One day you will realize that I’m not your world and I am not the sun you revolve around. Your horizons will expand and these precious hands will reach out to others and not mine.
That’s okay. It’s part of growing up and living life and letting go. For now you’re content to slumber in my arms and I am grateful you chose me. Just remember that you are forever my world. Even if I was yours for only a fleeting moment in time.