Dear Daphne (Bean, Princess and the Pea, Belle, Baby Belle, Baby Bean),
You've grown up this time.
I wasn't expecting this yearling with cascades of dark hair framing the blackest lashes almond eyes. I still see our toddler imp climbing on the couch to turn off light switches, but here you are listening to favorite bands, making Tik Tok's, and messaging friends on your iPad.
Last year was hard. You told me it wasn't, that you didn't mind playing by yourself at recess, that you liked your own company the most anyway. You didn't lose your spark; you still sang under your breath constantly and bounced around with joy despite the blows, but you asked to switch schools at the end of the year. I thought about it and prayed with you about it a lot. When I decided to try one more year, you weren't happy; you had gotten so excited about meeting new friends and starting fresh at the Junior High. I was worried (are you surprised?), and I prayed over all those girls to be like Jesus, even though I know girls aren't anything like Jesus when we're nine.
But, something unexpected and wonderful happened: there were new kids in your class ... and they are awesome! Finally, you've encountered free thinkers, wild thorns in the carefully manicured roses of this school to which I limited you. One girl told you of her romantic feelings for another girl, her fears after saying the word 'gay,' and the teacher who called her 'inappropriate,' and when you related the story to me, you said, "I told her to be herself and not worry about what other people think." Mountain top moment, my daughter, with whom I am well pleased. Your own sparkle is brighter with these new friends shining next to you, and I am so relieved God worked things this way.
While other girls play basketball or tumble or spend weekends pitching softball, you found theater and your first role last year in Sleeping Beauty. This year, you've got an even bigger part in Pinocchio (Sofia!), and you're excited for cheer leading to start, too. For school picture day, you dressed in black and white with a bright pink belt, and you said it defined you, this unexpected contrast. You are my pop of color every day, so I think you are right.
Daddy Paddy (Father Brain) finished school this year, and Nana and Papa came to visit for his graduation. I let you take off school to spend time with them. It was a beautiful spring week, and we all spent it on our back porch together. Now Dad is a nurse, and you joke a lot about that "nurse money," how he's going to spoil us with a trip to Disney (we hope!). You are so much like him with your dry humor and quick wit; the two of you make me laugh forever.
Dad and DD have taken you to Rylan and Brenden's football games already this year, even though you need to be bribed with concession stand money. Dad has to work a lot right now, and I know you miss him. He is doing it to be a better dad for you, and they all love you so much. You don't like the transition days, from one home to the other, but you LOVE having two birthdays and two Christmases.
We went to Maine again this summer, and you were afraid to step foot in the ocean after you and I saw jellyfish washed up on the beach. But, you loved being on the sand, playing restaurant/hotel with me, and even trying your best to boogie board when you weren't afraid of the water. We took you to the arcade twice, and that seemed to be your favorite part of our trip, besides spending time with Nana and Papa. Or maybe the annual candy store trip was your favorite...
Sadness hit our family again this year, as your favorite grandpa died. Grandpa John adored you, and it made everyone else so jealous. He told you he loved you before he died, the last thing he said to you, in fact, and it was one of the only times he ever said this phrase out loud in his entire life. He gave you coins and a book to keep them in, which he wouldn't have done for just anyone. He didn't just like you, he respected you. He loved how you always try to "make a deal" with me, because he saw exactly how smart and witty you are. You came with me a few times to visit him at the nursing home, and it made his days so much better to see you. After I spoke at his funeral, you cried and cried, and I feel heartbroken still to think of it. You and Grandpa John were special friends, and I'm so glad he was here to be in your life.
Oh, Daphne. You are so special to me. I dread the moment when I am your enemy and not your best friend, the teenage pulling away, because right now, we are so close. Just yesterday, we laughed and laughed while we danced and sang together. I still lie down with you every night, listening to meditation together before you drift off. I close my eyes and hold my breath to pray in those moments, because it actually hurts my heart to think of what a blessing you are to me. I peek at your sleeping face and I feel swells of love and pride.
You continue to astonish and delight us, my dearest one. I love you. Happy ninth birthday.
- Mama
