|Daniel, at Easter when he was five years old.|
I often think how lucky I was to have been chosen to be your mother here on Earth. I knew, when you were born, from so many things, that you were very special. All of my children were very special gifts from God, and all of you are treasured. You were the first and only one with which the luxury of staying home with you through your babyhood and toddlerhood was afforded to me, and I loved every moment of it. I have a wealth of memories of that time. I remember your being just months old when your sister put some tiny leather sandals on your feet, and stood you on her feet in front of her and showed you how to walk. You adored her, and so your muscular little arms and legs worked hard to simulate walking. No wonder that when I put you in a walker at nine months, that you stood to stand just afterward. I remember placing you in your crib for a nap and then returning to find you gleefully laughing when you figured out that it doubled as a trampoline. Thank you for staying in there, rather than climbing out. I knew you probably could.
You were always a patient baby or toddler. There was nothing demanding about you. You sat and looked adoringly as I spooned yogurt onto your plate, or put mandarin orange sections on a little plate. I remember how much you love all of your siblings and how loving and fair you were, even if they weren't always quite as understanding with you.
I have regrets. There are so many things on Earth I would like to have taken you to see, had I understood that time was so short. I had believed that there was enough time for you to grow up before we shared some of those places. I simply didn't know that you were here on Earth with a short stay visa, and that God's intention for you was something different than we had planned.
Last night I was dreaming that I was buying you a pair of blue jeans. You know dear, if I had you back with me, I would do that, and so many things. Know that this Easter, and every day, you are remembered and cherished as you remember. Please tell my Dad, I love him and think of him very often also. Sometimes, the days of the past balance into being as valid and as real as the days of the present and the future, and I accept and understand that anyone who has ever existed and has been loved, still exists in the universe.