Saturday, October 16, 2010
My baby girl is four years old today. She is sweet and smart and funny and beautiful. She loves to color and dance and read and eat Oreos. She's incredibly tall and has big brown eyes that will break your heart. She adores Ella and her cousins, her aunties and her nana. She laughs hysterically and can throw a fit like nobody's business.
But she also carries a sadness around with her. She's changed this year. She misses her dada. She still calls him that. She doesn't understand why he's gone or where he went. But I think she knows he's not coming back. Her whole little world has been turned upside down. And she doesn't know what to do about it. She's started biting her lip, so much that she has a scab on her face. And she grinds her teeth. She's nervous. These are her nervous habits. Her doctor said she is grieving.
Even her relationship with me is different. Sometimes I am so wrapped up in my own grieving that I can't bring myself to get up and play with her. I don't feel like being silly. Or baking cookies. Or many of the things we used to do. I don't have the patience for tantrums either. I'm failing miserably at this single-mom thing. It's so much harder than I ever imagined.
My sweet girl, I am praying for a better year for you. I am praying that we can get it together soon. I am praying that I can be a better mama to you, that we can find our own groove together and find our happy again soon. You deserve that and so much more.