You left us so quickly, we barely got the chance to get to know each other. Everyday I think about who you were, and who you might have been.
What I know about you, my dear sweet daughter:
- You were calm. You moved softly and gently within me.
- You shared my love of nature. You were with me, kayaking on Stones Lake, on lac Poisson blanc; swimming in Taylor Lake; splashing in the Atlantic Ocean.
- You shared my love of Anne of Green Gables, as I read to you in the bath, as we visited in PEI together. You and I were kindred spirits.
- You were efficient like dad. You were conceived in a blink of an eye. You were positioned head down, low in my womb and ready to go after as few as 5 months of pregnancy. You were determined to be born as soon as you reached full term. You came to us after 7 short hours of labour.
- You had beautiful, curly, red hair.
- You were meant to come into our lives. Dad and I knew we were having you, Anya, before you were even conceived. We were always going to have you, Anya.
What I wonder about who you might have been:
- What colour would your eyes have been, once you grew out of the baby blue eyes phase?
- What would your smile have looked like? Would your laughter have been quiet or loud?
- Would you have liked school? What would your passions have been?
- What would your flaws have been?
- What kind of a mother would you have been? I keep wanting to imagine you pregnant, in labour, giving birth, and caring for your children.
- Would your hair have stayed curly and red? Would you have liked your red hair?
I wish I could watch you grow up and share my life with you. I imagine you a baby, a young girl, a teenager, a grown woman, all at once, in a blink of an eye. All the things you will never be!
But I won't despair Anya, because you were! You existed. We shared our lives together. And I loved you.