Colleen
Colleen, my first-born child, came into this world on a glorious, sunny, warm day in May 1990. On May 14th, to be precise (precision being one of her favorite themes). Spring blooms were at their peak, with crab apple trees putting on their best show of pinks and whites set against the soft greens of deciduous trees that were just leafing out. May is a beautiful month in Southern Vermont, so long awaited through the rain and continued cold of April. The month of May brings a lot of joy, and it brought extra joy to me that year Colleen was born.
I think Colleen would like that I write this newsletter if she were here to read it. Not just that I sometimes honor her here, but that I write about resilience. She would appreciate that I encourage readers to reflect. Dear Sweet Colleen, the one who taught me how to be a mother, the one who makes me smile when I remember how fun and smart she was, the one I miss every day.
And I think she is still with us in her beautiful spirit. 💕 What a nice post and picture!
When I wrote the date in my journal this morning, I immediately thought of Colleen. I think of her often, and her birthday has stuck with me like few others have.
I read your book last year, and what has stayed with me most until now is how fortunate Colleen was to have you as her mother. Your love for her shines through every page of the book. Thank you for sharing your love for her and your resilience with us.