I love her laugh.
She can be like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at times – swinging from one intense emotion to another, from happiness to rage to excitement to heartbreak and back again – in a matter of milliseconds. I find it incredibly challenging (possibly because she’s so much like me) and we clash explosively on a daily basis despite my resolve that this time, this time, I will remain calm and loving.
I firmly believe that each of our children is born to us for a reason. I don’t know yet what I am supposed to be learning from her and I make a silent plea to the universe every morning that today will be the day that I finally understand. I still don’t. And so I keep on showing up and making mistakes and loving her as fiercely as I can because I don’t know what else to do. Maybe there isn’t anything else to do? Maybe that’s it. The whole thing, right there in that sentence.
But in between the battles and the power struggles is her laugh, ringing out for the whole world to hear. I love her laugh – it is one of the most magical sounds on Earth. It begins as an impossibly infectious giggle and ends as a roaring belly laugh that you can’t help but join in with, tears streaming down your face, your stomach muscles contracting.
19/52: 17.52pm, Thursday 12th May 2016