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Category: Letter to J

Leaning In

Leaning In

Dear J, “Can I have a kiss? Can I have a kiss?” she asks you again and again and I’m not sure whether you’re leaning in or just off-balance, but your lips press hard into her face and she laughs in delight. Your fingers yank on her hair and touch her mouth. She gives you kisses in return. As you lock your knees and stick your little butt into the air, we marvel at the seeming confidence with which you…

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Middle of the Night

Middle of the Night

Dear J, Last night you were deep asleep in your papa’s arms when the fire alarm started blaring. You opened your eyes wide. I went over to take a look and noticed that it was the carbon monoxide alarm that was going off. To tell you the truth, we didn’t know exactly what to do. We knew carbon monoxide was super dangerous and also invisible and odorless. All I could think about was keeping you safe. So I wrapped you…

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Wonder of Wonders

Wonder of Wonders

Dear J, As we travel the great circuit of the downstairs area of our home, you lay across my arms. Your feet are draped across my left arm, your head rests on my right arm, and the middle of you sinks down a bit where there isn’t any more of me to catch you. This reminds me of my two older brothers when we would all three sit in the back of our parents’ car. I would sit in the…

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Summer Come Early

Summer Come Early

Dear J, You are a marvel to us. Your body is a marvel to us. You are a five month old in nine month old’s clothing, growing so quickly that it’s early March and most of your clothes are tiny t-shirts and shorts, covered in anchors and sailboats. Summer has arrived early in our household. And I have never seen such constant movement. Out of empathetic curiosity, we sometimes lie down beside you on our stomachs, kicking our legs in…

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Meeting J

Meeting J

Dear J, Until the moment I met you, I could not conceive of you existing, of occupying space separate from us. And the moment you arrived, when your head suddenly burst into the room, your face scrunched and ruddy, I lost my grasp for words. I tried calling your grandparents, to tell them to come up, but only tears and gasps were left to me. They listened, asked questions, but words did not come to me. It was enough of…

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