Today you are 8 years old. It simultaneously feels like an eternity and no time at all since you were born. I still vividly remember standing at home in my kitchen and getting the call from our dad that you were almost here.
I was baking cookies. And I was terrified. I didn’t know how to be a big sister. I didn’t know if I could open my heart up to a little brother. I didn’t know if I could handle the changes you would bring to our family.
Oh how silly I had been. You have filled a spot in my heart I didn’t realize was missing. You are the most magical combination of all the things I love; of Daddy, of your mama, of Rebecca, of Molly. I see so much of myself in you, too, but thankfully only the good bits.
I hate more than anything that I haven’t spent every day of the past 8 years with you. Life is weird and families are complicated, but somehow you’ve always known that and you’ve always understood. Thank you for that.
It has been, and will continue to be, the greatest privilege to grow up with you. I am at my weirdest when I’m with you, and I mean that in the best way possible. Never change.