This picture was taken of you in my arms around Christmas 1970. You had been so sick and I was so worried and tired. Your daddy took the pic – I think it was probably the 110 or the poloroid camera that he used.

You know, Lessa, how upset you get at your sister for having Ladybug the day AFTER your birthday? Oh, honeygirl, you should have SEEN and HEARD the guff I took from my grandmother for missing HER birthday with you! I’m not sure if she ever forgave me, but she sure loved you.

So did your “Gama hollan”, my mom. Your dad and I could not help but wonder and laugh and stare the day you stood up in the back seat of the car (this was long before car seats and seat belts,btw) as we rounded one particular corner on Sunday afternoons and you would laugh and point and shout “Gama hollan!” We had no idea you had been paying attention enough to know where you were or to put it together with that was the way to your beloved gramma’s house.

As our first child we were inordinately proud of the work we had done to bring you into this world.

It was a different world then, less complicated, or so it seems to us now. I used to sit with you on the balcony (ha! fancy word for the back porch of our second floor duplex apartment) at the top of the stairs – the very stairs I fell down while pregnant with you and on the way to my baby shower, btw. We would sit there for long periods of time and I would point out the birds to you and the squirrels – big fat, red squirrels, not the scrawny ones we have here in Alaska. We would share delicious secrets about the world in general and ourselves in particular.

I hated having to go back to work after having you – but I loved it when we were together. And, that was a lot. We walked everywhere together. I didn’t get my license until you were a year old. But we still did a lot of walking.

Never think that you have not been loved, my girl. We have loved you from the first beat of your little heart. Dad and I would lie in bed at night and laugh at your swimming antics as we watched my belly ripple and undulate under the covers. He teased me for months (the turkey!) that he could not feel you move. I swore his callouses must have been 6 inches thick if he could not have felt THAT thump or bump as you made your presence known! Finally he relented and told me that he had felt you for a long time, but thought it was funny to see me turn red and then cry.

Men!

I had to forgive him for that as we got older and I realized that he had never had a male figure in his teen/adult life to tell him that sort of thing around a pregnant woman was STUPID, DUMMY!

Your daddy has loved you always. You were also blessed because my mom was alive while you were small. She would babysit you and feed you ice cream cones – on the porch, of course, because the Ohio summers were so hot that the ice cream would run in rivers down your chubby little arms. You and she and Mrs. Schultz would sit on the porch and laugh and have a wonderful time.

Your Grandma Pauline loved to watch you, too. We would go down to Middleport and visit from time to time.

And, then there was Grandma Abbott – my grandmother – the one whose birthday would have been yesterday. She loved you and would tell you all the stories she told me when I was growing up. Sadly, I don’t think you listened any better than I did and most of those stories are lost now. You and I were always too busy – in our minds – to listen to such things. We were busy writing our own stories – making our own fun. But those around us loved us anyway.

So, this was a long way to say it, but the message is still as clear. I love you and am glad that you have been a part of my family for these last 36 years, Lessa. You and I did a lot of growing up together. And, now that I am in my dotage (haha!) and you are following along just 20 years behind me into that dotage (hahahaha!) we can look back and remember all the fun we’ve had and look forward and think of all the trouble we can get into in the future – together!

love you, kiddo! Happy Birthday!!