My baby will turn three 42 minutes past midnight. As I tucked her in tonight I was feeling overwhelmed, wishing I could pause real life and have a day of little wishes instead of being worried about Ben. Believe me, I know all the adages and advice on worry. I know worry is just the absence of faith, a waste of effort and life span. I know all this, but my heart doesn't learn.
Gigi didn't want to go to sleep, so it took a little extra coaxing and snuggle time to get her to settle in. I'm glad it did, because just before I made my "escape" to get to all the work outside the door, she reached for my hand.
"Kiss your hand," she commanded. Then she kissed it too. "Now I'll blow it to the stars." She reached her little arm out to the night light stars on the ceiling. "Now catch a star." She grabbed at the air and clasped both hands together to her chest. "And put it back in your heart." I loved the gesture so much we did it twice so I wouldn't forget.
I assumed this was something Jason had done with her prior, but he hadn't. All Gigi.
How am I so blessed with this amazing gift, this constant reminder of why I'm here and how good life is, even when it's sometimes terribly hard? How does such a tiny frame contain so much joy and imagination? We chose the name Gabriella because we liked it and it was kind of Italianish, but the meaning, "God's messenger," is becoming more dear to me as she grows. Gigi definitely carries a message of love in her heart. She's a beacon reminding me to put my trust and service where it belongs. I listened to God instead of my OB and I got a Gigi. Message received.
Happy Birthday, Gigi Ruth. We're so glad you came.