Big Love.
I remember the second our eyes met, I knew I was ruined. Almost like that feeling when you realize you’re in love with someone, and it’s super vulnerable, and you know you’re at the point of no return — yea, that kind of love, but tenfold. They placed you on my chest, screaming with all your might, while relief, exhaustion, humility, and the biggest love I ever felt washed over me. And then, you stopped crying, and just gazed right into my eyes, as if meeting someone you knew all along. It was then that I realized two things: the bond we shared was boundless; and I would never be the same. From that point forward, every fiber of my being, every cell in my body, would remember that you were once of and within me, and, for the rest of my life, would be learning to let you go. I would not always be able to prevent you from experiencing the pain and suffering this life brings, rather I would need to walk through it with you, and allow others to do the same. The balance of loving and letting go is a daily practice for me, and I doubt it will get easier. Big love is not easy.
Before you were born, I prayed that you would be filled with light, love and joy; now I call you my firecracker, because that is what you are. So when this life brings darkness, I will remind you of the light you've had in your eyes since days one, that you’ve given me and will continue to offer to others however you choose. Please have grace with me when I fail at this balance of loving and letting go -- when I’m overbearing, worrisome, or striving to control things in an imperfect and often ugly world.
Big love is not easy, but you make it worthwhile. Despite our finiteness as we understand it, and the ever-present possibility of suffering and loss, I must choose to accept the coexistence of pain and joy. I choose to be grateful for the light we bear witness to in the midst of darkness. I choose to love and let go. I choose big love.