Thursday 15 December 2011

The difference a year makes

Years are odd things. They're not completely random lumps of time, what with being based on lunar cycles and planets going round suns and the tides and all that, but why 365 days should feel so different to 364 or 366 is an odd one.

Yet as my daughter is on the cusp of turning one I feel rather emotional about the whole thing. It's no coincidence I'm sure that today, as we geared up to say goodbye to her time being nought but not nothing, I had a terrible day, full of tearful encounters, silly clumsiness and general wobbles.

I'm thrilled too of course, as well as emotional, that she's made it this far, that we've made it this far, and that she's grown so much, in every sense. I celebrate her life every day, constantly in a state of gratitude (and fear) for her existence, but to share this joy with others on her birthday is extra special.

When it came to writing her birthday card all of this, it turned out, could be expressed in one short phrase that has always seemed rather quaint before. But in three words it sums up all that I want for my daughter - many happy returns.

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