One year ago today you came into our lives two weeks earlier than expected with a loud and healthy cry, just your little way of telling us that you were ready to take on the world. And now, one year later, I am amazed at how your personality hasn’t changed much from that first welcoming cry.
I’ve been thinking about this letter for the past few months in anticipation of this big day, but when it came down to it, I waited until the last minute. (I hate to tell you this, Griffin, but the odds are stacked against you in that department). I figured things would come more naturally once I just sat down and started typing.
Every parent says the same thing – they had no idea how much their baby would change their lives – but it’s true. That first night alone at home with you, I went to bed and thought, “There’s another person in this house with us.” I was so worried I wouldn’t wake up when you cried. But you cried, and I heard you. And it was like we we had been doing this for years – feeding you, changing you, rocking you. You fit into our world so nicely.
Oh, there were the rough times. The colic and the screaming, but I don’t want to think about those times right now.
I’m not even sure what I want to say to you right now. Maybe how you’ve changed me from being a very anxious, uptight person to a more go-with-the flow person. Believe me, I’ve got a long way to go, but I’m a work in progress. You’ve taught me that I can’t plan my life any longer. I have to let things happen. And they just will. You’ve taught me how to stop and enjoy the right now because it’s what’s most important. You’ve taught me to not care if I’m a few minutes late for work…especially if it meant that I got to spend more time with you before taking you to day care.
You have this uncanny ability to make me smile when I’m in a bad mood (even when I might be a wee bit frustrated with you!). I envy the way that you approach the world, with eyes wide open and no fear. Every morning is a fresh start and a chance to learn. When you wake up each morning and you reach your arms up for me to take you out of your crib, we always do the same thing: We walk over to your windows and I reach out for your curtains. You anticipate it now and you start to smile right away. I sweep open the curtains and I say, “Hello world!” and your face just lights up. I just know you’re ready to take on the world. I love that about you.
And here we are, 7:04 AM. Exactly one year later. And my eyes are tearing up thinking about that moment when you entered this world and our lives. I want so much for you in this life.
I love you, Griffin.