Dear Katie

Dear Katie,
“How do I love thee…let me count the ways….” Not that I think for one second that you would actually understand the literary reference, but rest assured that while Elizabeth Barrett Browning may have no meaning for you, I find you endlessly fascinating nonetheless. Literature is my thing, not yours. The part of you that I am the most proud of is your voice. That is your thing. On the day you were born, you shrieked so piercingly that the doctor almost dropped you, literally. That marked the first day in an endless stream of them that I would hear your voice resonating throughout the house, either in protest or in song. The sound of your voice has, on more than one occasion I might add, sent me running to you in a crowded store when you had wandered off. The sound of your voice has alerted me to more than one impending disaster. The lack of your voice has alerted me to more than one punishable deed. The sound of your voice raised in song has sent chills down my spine and put a smile in my heart. Your voice is your greatest asset and your greatest drawback. My all-consuming fear for you is that in your deafening quest to be heard, you will forget the words to the song in your soul. I am proud of the child you were and the woman you are becoming. Always remember that I love you.

Love you to the stars,
Mom