To my dear Elizabeth,
This week you will turn ten – a decade old. You are our millennium baby, and for that and many other reasons, you will be forever special to us.
You are the child who came after Gabriel, your brother in heaven. You are the child who would not exist if things had not have happened the way they did. By your very existence, and in the most tangible way possible, you showed us that life can follow death, hope can follow despair, and that God’s love is brighter than the sun and all the stars blended into one.
I fought for your life in ways you’ve only begun to comprehend, dear one. Through you, I learned that doctors are human and there are moments in life when a mother’s love trumps the expertise of one proud physician. I learned that sometimes we are called to fight for those we love, even when they are only an inch long.
Toward the end of my pregnancy with you, you stretched my body beyond what I thought possible. You also gave me a scare when our your cord wrapped around your shoulder, when the intensive care unit swept into our labor and delivery room and whisked you from me. And then you let us know, with that hearty cry, that you were meant to be among us. Following that: my joy – my overwhelming joy – that after all of the worries, you WERE!
Fleeting scenes I remember from your first couple of days home: fresh, purple orchids on the table from your godmother; your beautiful, brown eyes; your round little body that fit so snugly in my arms and on my chest. We skipped the crib – you slept in our room, near our bed, close to our voices.
Back then, your older sister treated you so tenderly. I wish we could replay for you the sweet scenes that took place then as you drew her nurturing instincts out of her for the first time. You were her baby doll, and for whatever reason, for a while you were “Dee Dee.” Her Dee Dee.
I also remember how, whenever the song, “Brown-eyed Girl,” came on the radio, Dad would sing it to you (it used to be “my” song but you replaced me on that, and I gladly stepped aside). Sometimes, he would sing it to you when it wasn’t on the radio. I remember your rosy cheeks and shiny eyes and your soft, chunky legs moving with glee as your eyes met. I remember you in your baptismal garb, white as snow, a sleeping beauty.
Now you, staunchly in the middle as you are, float through our world, one day as the inept younger sister, the next, as the expert older one. You will navigate well through life because you can handle either end. You are a peacemaker, ready to sacrifice if needed, but always aware of your own needs as well and determined to have them be met.
Right now, you are a comrade of mine. You are the one who looks at me with those knowing glances when your youngest brother says something adorable that we both know, if we pay too much attention to it, will throw him into a frenzy. We have a secret world, communicating only through brown-eyed glances that require no words. I cherish this bond that is so uniquely ours.
This fall, you will be the biggest fish in the small pond. Enjoy it. The following year, you’ll be the small fish in the big pond. Just don’t forget about the guppies, one of whom will be your little brother. I have no doubt you’ll come through for me in helping guide him along. You will be his safety net when he’s in need of it. Someday, this role of protector will come in handy.
I’m proud of you, Beth. You are a bright girl who is very capable in school, who requires very little help from others. You never fail to attract friends, and yet I’m proud that you are not necessarily the leader of the pack; that you will hang on the edges fairly comfortably, observing instead of insisting on being center stage. Unless, of course, you’ve earned the spotlight; at that point, you do step up to the plate and shine.
You are not perfect. None of us are. I know you get down on yourself when you mess up. Perhaps too down. But there’s no need for that. Every hour is a new hour, and life is too short to stay mired in your mistakes. You might not realize this, but your virtues far outshine any of your character flaws. You are a light, shining brightly. I see it and many others do as well. The world would be a darker place without you in it.
I hope you enjoy this week, your birthday week, and the energy it will inevitably produce as the school year comes to a close. Summer will be here soon and wonderful adventures await you. I wish for you an enjoyable year in this tenth year of your life.
With love always,
Mom
LiddyLou says
I have a daughter named Elizabeth who will also turn 10 this week…and her brothers used to call her Dee Dee when she was little, also! How funny! Happy Birthday, Elizabeth!
Roxane B. Salonen says
LiddyLou, what are the chances of that? Wow. Happy birthday to your Elizabeth as well! 🙂
Mary Aalgaard says
I love all those special words and descriptions of your middle child. Will she read this? What an honor. What is the most outstanding to me is in your description of her birth…and you WERE. She just needed to exist to be loved and cherished. Sweet blessings from a middle child to a middle child. We’re the center and the hub. Love, Mary in the middle.
LutherLiz says
Happy Birthday Elizabeth! It is a great name 😉
Roxane B. Salonen says
Mary, yes, she will see it. I sent a link to her teacher in case there’s time at school. If not, I’ll show her here or print it up. 🙂 Yes, we middles are very versatile!
Liz, a great name indeed, “gift from God” is its meaning. I think there are more derivations of the name Elizabeth than any other. It’s been around a long time! Works in any era. Timeless. Thanks for your birthday greetings. I’ll make sure she reads the comments!
Clara says
Roxane, I came to get a glimpse of your new ‘nature’ scene, but stayed to read your adoring letter to “Beth” What a great post from a mother to her beautiful daughter:) Always cherish the time you have because they grow up way too fast & when they become adults? No worries, they’ll always be your little darlings…
Thanks for visiting @ wisewoman2 & “keep-a-going”! Poet, Gwendolyn Brooks words to me years ago when contemplating this writing thing:)
Peace,
Clara.
kim says
Roxanne,
What a beautiful tribute for your daughter’s birthday! I am sure she will cherish your words forever. Hope you all have a great birthday week! (also, hope you aren’t getting any of those bad storms heading that way.)
Fran says
Oh my… I sit here both smiling and weeping, with my heart wide open. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.
Shannon O'Donnell says
Absolutely beautiful. Your daughter and the words you have honored her with today. 🙂
Bev says
Grandma Beverly and Grandpa Roger were there the day our Dear Beth was born. Yes, all the emotions you expressed came back to me too. The greatest gift you could give her Mom, was your gift of the written word. No one does it better than you. (I’m a little partial) Beth is her own unique person – we all love her dearly. She has lots to offer this world – it’s a joy for us to see her grown up and blossom into this beautiful person who we claim as “ours”. Our Love G&G Salonen