My darling daughter Ramona—My love, my life, my moon–This is the first time I’m writing to you since you brightened my life with your arrival.  I think I haven’t written a word because this love letter seems infinitely important–there is a lot of pressure around knowing that you will be reading this one day and I want to completely express my adoration for you.  How do I find the diction to express my love for you?  I love you, I love you, I love you, my precious girl.  I love you.  You are everything I could only imagine and more.  You used to kick, punch, flip and speak to me when you were in the womb and now I see those same punches and kicks when you have something to say.  Your strong will and spirit are already blowing my mind.  I’m so proud of your strength and fire.  But of course I knew you would have fire.  You are my daughter.

Something happened to me on the morning you were born–it is as if I were reborn—for I honestly have a new heart.  And as wonderful as this new heart is, it simply can’t hold all this emotion that I have for you.  I brim over with tears daily just staring into your deep eyes.  What color will they be? When something startles and scares you to tears, I also well up.  My heart is entirely yours. I remember a few days after you were born, my mom (your Grammy) was watching you at night so I could get some sleep.  I went to bed in a separate room and  started crying because I couldn’t be away from you.  I couldn’t even sleep because I missed you in my arms.  I was aftraid that I’d miss something if I closed my eyes.  So I cralwed into bed with you and Grammy and cried while I stroked your fuzzy, sweet smelling head.  It was such a precious moment with the two most important women in my life–my life lines.  There we were–three generations of strong women, cuddling in bed and crying.

It’s not just my heart that you’ve brought to life.  It’s my spirit, too.  I’m young again and alive.  Yesterday you, your dad and I all went for a walk.  You were asleep in your stroller when I noticed a tree covered with white fluffy blossoms and I almost woke you up knowing how much you’d love that tree and the way it spread across the pristine blue sky. You love contrast and texture these days.  You see, it’s you, my Ramona who have opened my eyes to life again.  A year ago I never would have noticed that tree, those blossoms, that perfect Colorado sky.  Now every puddle, every bumble bee, every cloud,  seems so significant because through you, I am seeing things new again.

While the days have certainly gotten longer and these last 2 months have seemed like one long sleepless day, I am enjoying every second with you.  Even when you’re screaming so loud and your face is so red, I think it might catch fire, I’m hanging on to every moment knowing that in just a few months you’ll be crawling out of my arms.  In just a year you’ll be walking and your head won’t fit perfectly in my palm.  The fuzz on your ears will be gone and you won’t be stroking my breast, but eating from a spoon.  Dance parties in your nursury will be less about rocking you to sleep to Gregory Alan Isokov and more about entertaining you.  When we rock out to Girl Talk, I’ll be more worried about the diction you’ll pick up.  But I know I’ll savor those moments too. Your first scraped knee (which I’m sure I’ll cry about more than you) will also be a milestone.  The first time you pick up a rolly polly, play in a sandbox, bark back at a dog…  AWWWWWW….  My life has just begun.  How amazing this circle of life is. Just when I thought I had nothing left to look forward to, here you come to rock my world.  God is so good, Ramona. I hope you find him  sooner rather than later (on your own, of course).

My hope is that one day you’ll be where I am–sitting on a patio drinking a margarita and crafting a love letter to your daughter.  I hope you’ll realize you’re in love with your life as I am now.  I hope you’ll be courageous enough to do what’s right.  That you’ll “poo-poo” the approval of others, that you’ll see a daffodil and the way it turns its face to the sun and smile in peace.  I  hope you’ll be full of joy–full of love and that you’ll hang on to every dream you’ve ever had.  I hope you find your “Paris”.

You have awakened me, my love.  And life will never look the same.

Ramona Moon means “wise defender”, and a “light source in the darkness”.  I pray that you’ll always to defend the good, and I know that you will always reflect the light of the son.  I love you, sweet girl.

Love eternally,

your mama

You love staying up late with your mom and dad and watching TV.  We love it too… sweet moments.

I love your face right before your cry.  I really do.

You were so tiny at 2 weeks!  Now you’re a chubbler at 2 months.  My, how you can change in just days…

1 month old!

On your 1 month old birthday, I drove you East to the farm to meet my grandma, Ramona.  The amazing woman you were named after.  She is pretty smitten with you and thinks you are gorgeous.  You are, by the way.  Very beautiful.

You also got to meet your 2nd cousins, Jack, Madelyn, lydia and Avery…

You light up in Grammy’s arms.

…and in Dad’s.

He loves to put you in your “magic chair” and talk to you.  You pretty much talk back.

Sometimes we make breakfast while you sleep in the magic chair…

My very favorite thing to do with you is to take a bath together.  Your Dad took this shot with his phone.  Look at your precious face.

You absolutely love your wooden mobile.

… and your friends Mr Monster and the owl, “Coon”.