My girls constantly send me love letters. I thank them immediately, give them a huge hug and let them know how special these notes make me feel. I mean I have at least fifty and they are all over my house, in boxes that contain personal mementos, in my files, in the drawers next to my bed. You name the place and chances are, it is stuffed with either a note or a picture.
With all of life's craziness that we get swept up in, although the note is always addressed, sometimes I forget about it and move on to the next thing that we have to get done. When I have a quiet moment to reflect on these notes, I am so absolutely enthralled by the fact that MY little girls, the little girls that I still can't believe are mine, the little girls that I baked in my belly are writing notes to me and their Dad about how much they love us.
The picture part that accompanies the love letter is usually our family together holding hands, like the picture below. Pictures of us out doing things, seeing places, whatever the particular situation, but it is always our family together with love written somewhere in the note.
During my pregnancy, I could only dream about receiving notes like these. I would always wonder how long it would take for my little angels to be able to articulate their feelings to me, much less write them down in a note, throw it in an envelope (which is always how they arrive), and leave it for me to find.
Before long they will be writing notes to their friends or worse, their boyfriends and I will have to BEG them to draw a picture of the four of us walking together, holding hands. And I am almost positive that the response to my begging for a love note, will be something along the lines of "please Mom, that is like so pathetic."
So I will hoard these notes and cherish every single one of them because I know as each day passes the chances of getting another one dies a little death.
