oh, who is seven?

This is a pic of you and me Julia, from seven years ago.


You were born at 1 am, after we'd spent the day at the beach.

Labor started late in the afternoon and in the middle of the night, there you were, born in our dark, quiet bedroom.

the next day

The word that describes your being here with us is seamless.

A sunny July Sunday ended with you on the inside and a new day began with you outside.

me, jule, tim, and lydia, aka kari

You always felt like family.

It seemed like you'd always been here, been one of us.

This morning we sat on the patio swing at the lake, a tropically hot morning in Wisconsin, and I brushed out your hair--braid all compressed and matted from yesterday's swimming.

I took it apart carefully, brushing out bits of seaweed and grass, brushing and brushing until your hair was a sheet of honey colored satin.

"Look up at the sky, " I said, as I started a new braid for today's swimming

In a minute the braiding was done, and Julia you turned around, still talking, and I looked into your very greenish-gold eyes and thought, "Oh, lucky me."

Jule, Dad and I were married twenty-five years before you were born. That's a long time for parents to wait. I'm so glad we didn't know about you back then because I simply could not have stood it.

Thanks for being my baby, and for being my girl--little sister, auntie: YOU.

Happy Birthday, Julia Kate.

Obviously this whole family is better because you're in it.

love you forever and always, Mom and Dad


a favorite picture from july, 2004