aeryn

For you my six year old on your birthday, I give you the color red. I give you all its fire and all its warmth. I give you the red that snaps in embers toward the sky against a background of quiet trees. I give you that famous rosy fingered dawn. I give you the flash of scarlet on a hummingbirds cheek. But you dont need this gift because you already are red. You are fire and morning and iridescence.

How can I sum up this last year and hold it close? Ill try to remember bathing the dog, which went well even though it she wasnt in the bathtub, until she ran through the house. Ill try to tell about how butter is a good hair product, floor cleaner, and wall conditioner, not to mention a fine main course. Ill try to remember about your appreciation of ice cubes in your underwear and how it really never is too cold to break out the little blue plastic pool. Ill try to remember that the best baths last for three hours. Ill try to count myself lucky to sleep in my swimming suit. Ill try to remember all those cuddles, kisses, and arms thrown round my neck, and shouted words of undying love. But what I want to remember the most is you dancing, spinning through the sunshine, singing your own song at the top of your lungs, with every part in motion and feet flying in the air until Ithose around you can't help but be drawn into your vortex.

And lastly, my fiery one who will never be left behind, thank you for all the smiles that have made these lines around my eyes. Happy Birthday.