My Dearest Molly,
I wrote the first of these missives a few weeks after you were born, and I have continued to post them annually on your birthday. As you approach your Flashy Four, I find it difficult to gather my thoughts into coherent sentences. The world is a really shitty place right now. (Yes...Bubby cussed. It is something that Bubby does, and I rarely apologize for it.) I wish it wasn't, but I promised that I would never lie to you. Sometimes, things are difficult. Occasionally, we all feel overwhelmed and exhausted. It isn't weak to admit that we are tired, need help, and need to lean on others. How I wish I was turning four like you, and the only care I might have is whether Mommy and Daddy will let me watch Paw Patrol after dinner. I hope that when we talk about this miserable era one day, you will only have snatches and glimpses of memory. I hope you recall how hard everybody worked to keep your life as normal as possible. I hope you remember how you readily accepted wearing a mask and how it became a mantra for keeping you and your friends healthy. I hope that you remember how wonderful your preschool was and the outstanding teachers that put joy in every day for you.
I hope...
Last week, you and I sang some of our favourite songs from Encanto. Unsurprisingly, you know all of the lyrics and most of the choreography. Daddy says that you are a sponge. You hear or see something once, and it becomes a part of you. I asked you if you had a favourite character. Your answer was typically long and winding, as you named off the entire Madrigal family. I asked you if you could guess who my favourite Madrigal was. Excitedly, you yelled out, "Luisa!" "How did you know that?" I asked. And you said, "She's the strong one."
You were absolutely correct. Luisa is the strong one. She can move mountains, and she takes responsibility for everyone else in the family. But, I also told you another reason why I love Luisa. Luisa is strong, but sometimes she cries. You asked me, "Why does she cry?" I told you that sometimes everybody feels sad, and it is absolutely ok to cry when we do. You knowingly nodded your head. It was like I was having a mini therapy session. It was an intense and philosophical conversation to have with a four-year-old. You then showed me your Paw Patrol pups, and the universe was in total balance again. You gave me permission to cry that day, and I will be forever grateful.
Four is such a magical age. Four-year-olds are the "in-between," not really babies or toddlers but not quite ready for the prime time of memory-laden childhood. But, oh, the things you can do and the things you say. Four-year-olds speak their minds without the filter that comes with age. Oh, how I wish I could utter some of the things you do and get away with it just because I'm four. There is a purity to your thought that is marvellous. It is yet to be tainted by rules of civility and propriety. Only young people and old people can live their lives without any shits to give. Those of us in the middle are stuck dealing with decorousness and etiquette. Enjoy it while you can, dear one. The decorum police will soon be on your doorstep.
You are a whirling dervish of imagination and chatter. There are times when I am sure that your parents just turn on the TV so that you will stop talking. I love it! I love listening to your stories. I want to crawl inside your brain and watch it work. I am in constant awe of everything that comes out of your mouth. Don't stop talking, Molly. Keep expressing yourself in ways that get you noticed. Tell the world how you feel and never hide your emotions. If someone calls you a chatterbox, tell them that you are loquacious. Words matter, and how we use them matters. Never allow yourself to be defined by somebody else's negative perception.
Are you stubborn? No, you are strong-willed. Are you picky? No, you are discerning. Be yourself, but be kind.
Kindness is in such short supply these days. People have forgotten how to interact and behave. And yet, I see it in you all the time when you comfort a friend who is having a difficult day at school or in the gentle way you treat Talia. Kindness matters so very much. We often forget that we need each other, and if we forge a bond of compassion and empathy, we can get through the difficult times together. Always return to kindness, Molly. There will be times when anger takes over, and your words might be sharp, but trust your kind heart. It will not fail you.
I have been so impressed with how wonderful a big sister you are. Talia is still so new and still learning so much. I love how you make it your mission to make her smile and laugh. Nobody makes that baby laugh harder than you. She adores you. I watch her face light up when you come close. She trusts you implicitly and wants so much to be like you. Sisters have a bond that is unlike any other. She will be your best friend, biggest fan, and best confidant. She will probably also be your biggest nemesis, aggravation, and irritant. Remember the good stuff and minimize the bad. Your relationship with your sister will be your most important and enduring. Cherish each other and work together. Always be there for her.
You have grown so much this year. There is some wariness, and that is normal. I believe in caution, but it is essential to never let nerves overtake your desire to try something new. There are so many exciting adventures awaiting you this coming year, and it is my hope you dive in with both feet and embrace all that is offered.
I am in constant awe of you. I love who you are becoming and am fascinated by what fascinates you. You are in ceaseless motion, and I wish I had a tenth of your energy. Keep dancing with joy. Continue to help with the cooking and baking because they feed both body and soul. Keep trying new things and embracing fresh escapades. Never stop asking questions and never settle for the easy answers when you feel them lacking.
Happy 4th Birthday, Molly. Celebrate it with dance and cake because life is always better with cake.
I love you to the moon and back.
Love,
Bubby
