Birthday Letter to my Scarlet

My Darling Scarlet,

Our nightly ritual is a nuggle while we recount your good deeds. Your heart is generous and truthful, you give more than you take. You think of others first. My heart swells each morning when you find me first thing, waiting to start your day until after you’ve given me love. You are love.

I see your heart break every time you realize you’ve made a mistake. A slight reprimand from me brings swallowed back tears and sincere apologies. I worry you think my love wanes when a mistake is made.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. 

I want you to live a life full of mistakes. I want you to wake in the morning and face the day fully expecting mistakes to kiss you goodbye at the door, follow you on your way, and nuggle you to sleep at night. Mistakes are a sign of a life well-lived. Fear of making a mistake robs you of life, robs you of being human. And you are human, my sweet dolly. So human. And I am grateful. I don’t want a robot for a daughter. I want a wild-haired, bloody-kneed, foul-mouthed, kind-hearted, self-sacrificing, honest-to-a-fault, can’t-pass-a-baby-without-kissing-it, daughter. I want you. All of it.

I think a better nighttime ritual would be to spend some time laughing at our mistakes. The bustle of the day is done, mistakes were made, and now we can dissect them. Let’s bring them down to size. Let’s take away the fear of imperfection. The fear of being human. Let’s change our goal from being perfect, to being self-aware. 

Perfection isn’t possible, your Savior knows that. Mistakes are the only way back to him. And I promise you want to get back to him. He is peace, happiness, light, joy, love. He does not fear your mistakes. He loves you for trying. He loves you for living. He loves you. Always.

Mistakes were made, and hallelujah for that. 

Love you forever and a day,
Mom