You have the chubbiest cheeks I’ve never kissed.
You have the silliest squealing laughter I’ve never truly heard.
You have the biggest, most beautiful eyes I’ve never seen face to face.
Your grandfather would’ve adored the way you find wonder in every single thing. A fuzzy leaf. A siren passing by. A cat’s underbelly.
You run barefoot outside, and you’re scared of an ant but you will let caterpillars crawl all over you. I was so much like you are at that age.
You are so smart. So unbelievably smart. Colors, you know them. Numbers, you got it. Letters. Songs. Animals. Sounds. Places. You are so tiny and you know so many things and I have never met you but I still beam with pride.
It is better this way.
Your dad lost himself so long ago. Devastating, because it means I no longer know him and I will never know you.
It is better this way because you have blossomed and maybe he would’ve stalled that. Without him, she is able to be the best mother for you.
You are the best thing he ever helped to create, and maybe the best thing he could ever do for you was to walk away.
You will never know me. But your mother shares your special moments and I am forever grateful. I will always love you.