You laughed for the first time yesterday while your Papa gave you a giant zzzrrrbbrrt on your belly.
It made me fear death.
And I have never feared death before. I’ve always prided myself on my fearlessness which now I know was not bravery but ambivalence.
Because I have never loved anything or anyone like I love you and your Dad. It has made me feel incredibly mortal.
As I rocked you gently in my arms tonight I thought of your little laugh and realized how I never wanted to leave you. It scared me how much I care about this family. Because the stakes are so high. I painfully realized how careless I have been my whole life, with my life.
No wonder I got into so many dangerous situations with people, places, and things. It wasn’t that I thought I was invincible and nothing truly bad would ever happen to me, I just didn’t care so much if it did.
Well, now I do care. I care very much. And it humbles me.
I am so grateful for this precious life that I get to share with you and your Dad. It really is a gift, every single moment. Even when you scream in my face and I haven’t a damn clue what you are crying about.
That right there is a whole other sort of fear.
I love you. This is you in your Bumba in the kitchen yesterday.
And this was a little game I played with your Dad today, it was called, Where is Baby?
I can’t stop smiling looking at this photo because you look so sweet sitting there with your little hands in your lap, like a little school kid waiting for your lesson.
Put a fork in me because I am done.