And I have cried many tears the past weeks, remembering holding my sweet girl in my arms. I used to dance around the living room singing softly in her ear, "Dance with me Anastasia Grace and we will go to a faraway place! Oh dance with me Anastasia Grace." I was so in love, I did not know what to do with myself. I remember someone telling me how much she looked forward to family gatherings when her littles were little, because there were so many arms to hold her babies. And I could not imagine ever wanting anyone to ever hold my girl besides me. My arms were made to be a mother, her mother.
The memories are great, moving to Oregon with my little sweet one month old, to start a grand adventure, that fell apart just months later. She has lived through jobs and job loss, moves and no where to call home, school and more school, and still more moves and even more moves, new friends and friends that moved away. And moving away from friends she cherished. She has handled all that life has brought with such grace, joy and wisdom.
And panic grips me because I want to hold so tight to her. I have not protected her enough. And have I even given her wings to fly? How do I do this? This parenting thing. How do I keep her safe and make her ready?
I love her so much.
She is growing up.
I love her more each day.
Happy 13th Birthday my Anastasia Grace!