Good morning,
my beautiful girl.
The house will wake soon.
There will be little voices,
breakfast crumbs,
someone needing something,
and all the beautiful chaos
that comes
with raising children.
Life has never been
particularly quiet
around here.
And some mornings,
I am grateful
for the noise.
It reminds me
of everything
I still have.
But today,
I wish there were
one more voice
calling me Mom.
One more sleepy face
appearing in the doorway.
One more reason
to make a birthday breakfast
and pretend
I am not emotional
about how quickly
my baby is growing up.
I wonder
what eleven
would look like
on you.
Whether you would
still let me kiss
the top of your head.
Whether you would
roll your eyes
when I told you
how much I loved you.
I would give anything
to embarrass you
with a birthday song.
Instead,
I’ll say it
to the morning light.
Happy birthday,
MaKenna.
I hope wherever
love goes
when it can no longer
be held,
some part of mine
is reaching you.
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