Dear Hildegaard,
I can’t wait to show you the ocean.
Dear Hildegaard,
You threw up today, straight down into my shirt, as I held you over my head. You didn’t even notice - you were having too much fun. I screamed and changed. You laughed. I am having the best time with you.
Dear Hildegaard,
I hope that you do not inherit my serotonin imbalance, but you might. And if you do, I want you to know that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel numb for no reason and to be sad about that, because it doesn’t seem fair. It isn’t. This world broke the day we trusted our own wisdom over God’s. It broke, and one day He will put it back together, but right now? Right now, there is brokenness amid the beauty and the joy. And it’s okay to groan with the rest of creation.
It’s okay to take walks just to soak up the sunshine. It’s okay to eat ice cream in the afternoon. It’s okay to watch TV. It’s okay to read your Bible on your phone. It’s okay to wish that you were always as happy as you felt the day you ate ice cream in the afternoon. It’s okay to cancel plans. It’s okay to wish that things were different.
It’s not okay to assume that your body is a problem. Or that your laugh isn’t wonderful. Or that you are ugly, or annoying, or a burden. It’s not okay to tell yourself that you are alone. Because you are never alone. God is a never-leave-your-side kind of friend. He never leaves or forsakes or forgets. It’s not okay to lie to yourself when you’re sad. Those lies can spiral, and gather snow, and pick up speed and become all you can see. You must tell yourself what is true. Grab a soft blanket and feel its fibers between your fingers. Remind yourself that you’re safe. That you are standing on solid ground. And if you want to, pick up a pen or a paintbrush.
Dear Hildegaard,
One of the hardest things about being a grown up is adjusting the expectations you had for yourself. The other is adjusting the expectations you had for other people. You imagined you’d be married by 25 and have three kids - two girls and a boy. Or two boys and a girl. You thought you left enough wiggle room for contentment.
But the other thing is unexpected joy.
Rachel, this is so good, and so needed. For Hilde and all of us.
You are such a wonderful mother. I wish my mother had written such honest, encouraging thoughts to me. She expressed her love to me, but the written word is a treasure to keep.