Dear Isabella

You are 7.  You’ll be 8 in a few months. Can I tell you how much I love you again?  I know but somehow it’s something I have to do over and over again.

Tonight as we drove your brother back to school you spotted someone.  I never saw her.  You said “that poor lady can we please give her my blanket?”  I didn’t see her your brother didn’t either but you did.  I told you as soon as we got Ian settled we’d come back the same way.

An hour later as we were driving back you were worried I took a different route. It was too dark for you to recognize where we were but I assured you we were going towards the direction you requested.  You pointed to a bench.  It had box on it as well as a dirty quilt and next to that an old shopping cart full of someone’s belongings.  She was not there, this woman you spotted but you insisted we leave her your favorite blanket.  I let you walk out of the car and watched as you placed it gently next to her other things.  Dear Isabella. I’m so in awe of you and your heart which never lets anyone go unnoticed or unloved.

I love you my girl.  My little Bubbi.



My daughter asked my husband  what self esteem was.  He told her it was about loving yourself and all the things you are.  

She looked at him and said so ELF esteem is when an elf loves himself just the way he is.  He lost it.

Memory Bank.

I read a post today that made me think of something I had tucked away in that memory bank of memories.

One Thanksgiving my father & my brothers came all the way from NYC to NC where I was stationed to deliver a delicious turkey prepared by my mom who had to work on Thanksgiving. 

I can see the smile on his face as he held the aluminum wrapped turkey and the love in his eyes to be sharing Thanksgiving together.  There are so many memories like this I have stored in my heart. 

My parents..I could not have asked for better.  Sometimes what we may forget in our minds suddenly surfaces in our hearts.

My daughter..a very wise 7.

Me: (frustrated after a morning of major spring cleaning) Do you really want to keep this toy it's kind of babyish?
7 year old: I'm not embarrassed about it. It doesn't matter what people think as long as I like it.
Me: Hugging her.) You're so right. It doesn't. I love you so much.