Happy New Year!
So many things happen on New Years Eve, starting always with a ’Happy Birthday’ chorus for my (not so -) little (oldest) girl… Miss 5 is now Miss 6 🙂
Every year it’s like trying to make three days of one! First it should feel like a birthday, loving focus and time for the birthday girl; second, there’s inevitably a lot of running around and fixing to be done – if we’re not celebrating at home with friends coming here, there’s always all the things we need to do in preparation for being somewhere else, going out for a night is an almost equivalent volume of baggage as a sleepover! Finally, day 3… you just want to celebrate New Years Eve! Some how it just all works out. Maybe because the day is at least 5 hours longer for Miss 6, so she really does feel like it’s been more than a day and doesn’t expect in the slightest that the evening should be about her! Or she just LOVES parties anyway, and couldn’t be more impressed that the whole world has fireworks on her birthday.
The fireworks… No associations are as strong for me as the sight and sound of exploding fireworks. I’m right back there in the hospital holding my new born baby in my arms. My first child. Those first hours where there was no world outside of the room that we were in, where nothing beyond the baby in my arms was of any importance, when everything of the pain I’d just experienced was as a foggy dream, the only reality the tiny, beautiful, fragile little girl in my arms. It was literally beyond comprehension to look away from her for more than a minute, and our shock when there started to be bangs and pops outside the closed window was too hilarious. Caught up in the midst of it all, we had COMPLETELY forgotten that it was New Years Eve! What the heck was all the flipping noise!! Mr M opened the curtain and the spell was broken. Oh yeah! There’s life outside! …Now back to the baby 🙂
Then I’m there, one year later. So taken aback by my overwhelming love for her when I heard those fireworks that I had to creep upstairs to her cot and look at her sleeping. I so wanted her to know and understand the depth and breadth of my feelings for her that I found a piece of paper and started to write it down, because what if somehow she might grow up and not know.
So that was it, the beginning of what has become a tradition. But now for the first time, it’s not even two, but three sleeping children. So at 1.30am that’s what I was doing, writing three little letters. They’re now sealed in envelopes, addressed and dated, half hidden in my top desk draw, to be read for the first time many years from now.
It doesn’t have to be a new tradition, or new years promise… take a few minutes to write a little love letter if you feel inspired… to whoever you like! What could be more beautiful or encouraging than receiving one of those this january, or discovering that secret envelope much later.
The first of January has otherwise been a calm quiet day here. But I was out walking for 30mins in the daylight, so I can check that off my as yet unfinalized, invisible little list, and I’m about to drink two big glasses of water, so that too!
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