So, my Jenna-girl, I'm writing this a little late and will save it as your birthday post; this week with you away on holiday again, adventuring on a narrow boat with your grandma, has been a very strange week for me.
I have noticed all the spaces you leave, things that only you say and do, ways in which you make my life noisier and brighter and funnier. And at the supermarket I noticed how much more often I have to catch hold of a toddler hand to distract her from some act of destruction - how often you entertain, love, divert, and support your sisters without any of us really taking note of it until you aren't here. My evenings are quieter. Nobody flashes that quick grin at me over jokes that none of the others really understand.
You are ten years old, now. Ten. Even if I say it again I'm not sure it will sink in. You are lively and busy and witty and strong. You are thoughtful and sensitive and intense and loud. You challenge me to be a better person, and yet accept me just as I am. I can't imagine not being your friend.
I want to fill your world with adventures and joy. I want to be able to say yes more, provide more fun, support you better. I feel like I'm learning all the time and sometimes desperately trying to keep up with you - and already I am feeling the strange sensation of time running out as you need me less and less. These years of your childhood have been so short, and your teenage years are rushing towards us. Remember, please remember, how much I love you. I will try to find new ways and old ways to remind you every day. xx