I remember when you actually were a baby, you know. You scared us all to death. My memories are perhaps fuzzy, but I remember the Clark girls coming over to see you and being so proud you turned out so pretty. Next thing I knew you were in the hospital. I never understood why, I just knew to be worried. And I was.
Than you got bigger, just big enough to pour boiling water all over you. 911. Ambulance. Scared? I was petrified. Nila came over and took care of us while you were raced off to the hospital.
I watched you take your first steps (at least that I can remember while I was watching) in that hospital. All bandaged up and waddling around.
My head realizes that you are no longer a baby, I mean good grief you are a married woman. But in my heart you are still a baby. In my head I realize you are quite capable of doing anything and everything you darn well please. But my heart still thinks, I should watch you. Be near you, just to make sure you are okay.
It is perhaps a silly sentiment with the miles that lay between us, but you know it is just how I love you. I do not think I will ever be able to get over wanting to help you. Protect you. Advise you.
I am the older sister though, and you are the baby sister. I suppose what I am trying to say is all those years of bossing was my way of saying (perhaps not very well) how much I love you. Maybe now that I am older, I can say it better. Or maybe it is the distance.
Hannah Baby, I do really love you. If anyone had ever told me at 5 years old how much I would learn from that teeny tiny little you I would have laughed. You dear friend, are an original. A worrier. And the cutest freckly thing I have ever seen. And I promise in one year, I will remind you just how much I love you with all sorts of make up bossing for my two years away. (Well, okay maybe I will leave the bossing out of my love language.)
Happy Birthday Hannah Jane. So glad God new we needed a gift like you that year.