Corra Grace

In April I became an aunt.  My baby brother has far surpassed me in classic marks of adulthood as of late:  home ownership and parenthood.  I'm very okay with that.  I'm so proud of how hard he works for the life he is creating for his family.  He always has and always will be one of my favorite people on this planet.  (okay, my mom may argue the "always has". . .).  I miss him like I can't put into words.

In April he and his wife welcomed a precious baby girl into the world.  These were my first words for her:

My sweet little Corra Grace,
Welcome to this wild world and our *insert adjectives of choice* family. I [impatiently] awaited the phone call from your dad all day yesterday letting me know that you had made your grand entrance into our lives. I may or may not have managed to engage in discourse with your father that was harassing and reminiscent of childhood sibling discord even on such an occasion (yes, this kind of behavior persists with your siblings even after more than two decades of doing life together). We exchanged many texts during the day (it was a form of communication common in the stone ages that occurred on these ridiculous devices called iphones that consumed peoples’ lives in somewhat ridiculous, disturbing ways--- I’ll explain it all someday and you can laugh at how lame we used to be) about how excited we were for you to make your debut. Every time I called your grandparents on your birthday I had to say “NO, DON’T GET YOUR HOPES UP IT IS JUST YOUR DAUGHTER!” because they would run to the phone hoping that it was your dad letting them know you had been born (your dad always has been the golden child. [it’s tough (and also pretty awesome) being the oldest] On April 24, 2015--Your Day--I was very okay with that.)
Your dad called. Tears welled up in my eyes. My heart exploded.
This world can be an exciting, incredible, amazing, terrifying, overwhelming place. I pray that you can share the kind of love with your siblings [and entertaining pretend hate] that I will always uniquely share with your dad. I’m pretty excited to tell you unending tales of bemusing stories about him. [I can teach you how you, too, can feed your younger siblings cat food under the guise of being Chex Party Mix. ] I hope that you can develop relationships and create memories with your cousins that are akin to what I share with mine. We loved, we laughed, we fought, we cried, and we got to do life together in this incredibly special, magical way. I know and am so grateful that you are going to be raised in a home where love and grace abound. Your parents love you enough to not be your friend for the first eighteen years of your life, to say no, and to set the limits that are going to kind of [really] suck but will actually make you feel safe (it’s okay to not admit it until you leave for college) and help facilitate your growth into an intelligent young woman with integrity and character who will be respected and valued by the (right) people in your life.
There will be times you are absolutely terrified to leave your parents and times where they will make you feel kind of crazy. Know this: your dad is one of the best men I know. The world needs more men like him. Having a figure like him in your life is going to transform who you are, how you operate in relationships, and how you see the world in a huge way. And your mom. Well, she’s amazing. You’ve been hanging out in her arms for about 22 hours now but already the ways in which she has sacrificed and loved you will never be able to be replicated by another person on the face of this planet. Trust me when I tell you that the presence or absence of a mother’s love will leave an indelible impact on a person’s life. Don’t take for granted for a single moment the presence of such a remarkable woman helping you discover how to live, love, and give.
The path before you will not be a simple one. It will not be a road without pain, disappointment, pressure, or missteps. But the course charted before you is one you will never need to travel alone.
I can’t wait to get to know you. To hear you sing for the first time. To read to you as you fall asleep. To watch you on Christmas morning (You can join me in my annual protest about how your father still has the largest stocking at grandpa and grandma’s house. It really is a crime.). To hike Pike’s Peak with you. To watch you fall in love.
I couldn’t be more excited about this aunt gig, little girl. If you ever want gum, just check my purse.