Time is something I seem to have lost since Gracie was born...I sat down to write about her hitting six weeks...I sat down to write about her first smile...I sat down to write about our first "real" (ie, not the doctor's office) outing together...and I didn't finish writing about any of it. So, to summarize, my baby is now six weeks old, smiling and going on outings and I am loving every minute of her.
After we lost Rip, I found myself torn between wishing time would pass and wanting to hang on to every day and it's the same now that Gracie is here. Every second I have with her is honestly the answer to a prayer. I want to keep her tiny and in my arms for as long as possible and yet every day she is more and more fun so I can't wait to see what she will be like in one month, six months, a year.
I make lists every day and rarely get anything done. I am rarely showered before 6 pm and I've forgotten what a hair dryer even looks like. I haven't left the house since last week. I have forgotten how to speak without turning my r's into w's and I wouldn't have it any other way.
After Rip died, I decided what I did with my time would be his legacy. I never wanted it to be about his death but about his life.
What I am doing now is spending my time loving his little sister with all of my heart, because she is now a part of that legacy. This beautiful, messy, sweet, cranky little 9 pounds of infant deserves every second of my time. My job now is to love her beyond reason, to make sure that she knows nothing but love. And as time passes and she grows and learns and goes into the world, she will take a little piece of her brother, who taught me so much about love and the preciousness of time, with her.
These things I learned from my son, the same things I hope to teach my daughter, are what is important. It is a lesson I've learned time and time again.