I sure can’t.
Right now you have a cold. You’re a tough one, so I know you’ll be fine, but it’s still sad to hear you cough and see your little eyes get red-rimmed. You’ve also lost your voice, and a crying baby without a voice has got to be one of the most pathetic sounds in the whole wide world. Big, wide crying mouth – itty bitty squeaky sound…
However, you are smiling and giggling through it all. You are such a happy baby. Your favorite thing to laugh at is your big sister. Mo can always make you smile. Always. It’s a gift.
You’re not quite rolling over on your own, but I flip you on your tummy a couple times a day. That giant noggin of yours makes tummy-time a pretty good workout. You weigh about 18 lbs right now and I’m super thankful for our Ergo baby carrier. Even if I do get weird looks going up for Communion with you strapped to my chest. It’s ok, Little One. People are always looking for a distraction at Mass and you are a beautiful distraction.
Your great, great uncle Ralph passed away a couple weeks ago, and his funeral was yesterday. We couldn’t make it, but I wish you had met him. All my life, he looked tough and weathered. Until he smiled. He was one of the gentlest souls I’ve ever known and had a deep love of babies. He always wore a striped train-engineer hat, and we shared an affinity for rock tumbling. For years, every time I visited, he would go out of his way to show me his latest polished stones. There is joy in finding a diamond in the rough.
I hope that I still speak fondly of him when you’re old enough to understand. If I don’t, once you read this, please ask me about him. He was a joy to know and will be deeply missed.
Love you Lu and so does Uncle Ralph.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.