boheme, i took you on our daily late afternoon nature walk today and, while watching your soft, delicate, dimpled hands touch the world around you, there arose a feeling of truth from our familiar path. a truth so obvious that it has taken me my whole life to learn. a truth i want you to know from the start.
as human beings, we can be so complicated and rarely say exactly what we mean. rarely show exactly how we feel. never truly touch life. i can’t even tell you how many times, after an interaction, i have been left confused and struggling to understand what it really meant.
but nature is unconcealed. like you at five months old, it holds nothing back. it will be your greatest teacher so stay close, watch, and listen. watch how trees blowing in a storm show you their strain. listen to the birds proudly sing their song, unafraid of what the other birds might think. watch how the plants and animals thrive without technology or modern luxuries, showing you what the real world really looks like.
now our walk is over and we are home. you are in a deep sleep beside me. the kind of sleep that only comes from fresh air in your lungs, and sun on your skin. my suspicion is that you are dreaming of colors, and textures, and butterfly wings. warm tears burn my face because i know i can’t protect you from the human experience. i can only teach you what i’ve learned.
so, as you bloom like spring, i will do my best to show you the real world. i will do my best to expose you to the wisdom of nature. but if i fail, you always have these words.
i love you my darling daughter. you were beautiful in every way today–and everyday. i can’t wait to see you when you wake up.