Dear Lily: One day, you will hurt my heart.

Dear Lily,

This letter isn't meant to be accusatory or critical. It's not pessimistic or depressing. It's simply true: at some point, every daughter hurts her mama's heart. I know this because I have hurt my mama's heart--your Granny--in ways that now wound me to my core, in absent moments or missed hugs or calloused words that I hope never to repeat. But do you know what's remarkable? Your Granny still loves me just as much as she ever has; the wounds are there, but the love has sutured the bonds back together and perhaps made them stronger than ever before.

I say this to you now because--just today--my heart felt like it might just have to burst, unable to contain the love I feel for you. The moment was simple: we'd returned from running a number of boring morning errands and were in the somewhat tenuous minutes before your nap. You'd been a bit fussy all morning (likely thanks to your second front tooth coming in) and couldn't quite decide whether to whine or wiggle or just be your usual whimsical self.

And then you saw my red pot holder.

It was a simple enough choice: I was steaming your carrots while you ate a cold quesadilla from yesterday, and I needed to protect my hands from the hot lid of the pot. But I took a moment to note your curiosity in the large mitt on my hand, and, when "Yakkity-Yak" came on our Pandora Toddler Radio, I began to chase you around the butcher block. Your squeals of pure delight, your anticipatory giggles, your stomping feet and sparkling eyes were enough to keep me going, and so we sang and chased and tickled and peek-a-booed and finally collapsed in a hug on the kitchen floor.

And my heart felt ready to burst.

You are such a big girl now--you ask for our hands before stepping outside; you try to diaper your baby, Nee-Nee; you know when it's time to go upstairs for bedtime or nap and gladly lead the way; you stand beside me in your learning tower and mimic every action I do in the kitchen; you love to play house and grocery shop at the indoor playground. With each second that passes, you seem to grow more, and so I know that you will not forever be my carefree toddler, content to have your silly mama chase you around the kitchen with a pot holder. So these are the moments that I must remember when you are a teenager, when you're not sure you want to be seen with me at a movie or at the mall, when you ask if you can miss a family dinner to go out with your friends.

Because, my sweet love, when you hurt my heart, I will pick up a red pot holder to dry my tears, put "Yakkity-Yak" on the radio, and dance around the butcher block with your daddy until I laugh as loudly and joyfully and uninhibitedly as you did today. Most of all, though, I will want you to know that my heart will always overflow with my love for you, and nothing can change that.

With love that will never fail,
Your Mama