Words of wisdom

My dearest E.,

I came across these wise words on the Internet (unfortunately, I do not know the author, or I'd give tribute to him/her for such prolific and thoughtful thinking) and I want to share them with you:-

Watch your thoughts, for they become words.

Watch your words, for they become actions.

Watch your actions, for they become habits.

Watch your habits, for they become character.

Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.

Thinking about you

What we think, we become ~ Buddha

My dearest E.,

I just thought of you. I have been sitting at my work desk, dreaming the past half hour away, waiting to come home and see you. Because I miss you, and can't wait to fold you into my arms and escape into nothingness. You and me together.

I just wanted to let you know this.

Butterfly kisses

Always kiss your children goodnight, even if they're already asleep. ~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

My dearest E.,

I kiss you each and every night before you go to bed. I kiss you early in the morning when you wake up and smile at me. I kiss you when I drop you off at your grandparents' house for the day. I kiss you when you squeal in happiness to see at the end of a long, tired day. I kiss you when you lie beside me and play with my hair. I want to kiss you all the time, hold you close to me and forever be entangled in your sweetness. And when you kiss me back, soft and wet on my cheek, my heart is suffused with immeasurable joy and happiness.

Think of my kisses as little hopes and wishes to guide you through your day. Take each kiss of mine and bury them deep within your heart. Blow those kisses on those around you to make their day a little more cheery, happier or sunny. Spread those kisses as you spread your love to others around you.

Here are the words to a beautiful song that your father and I both love. It's called "Butterfly Kisses" by Bob Carlisle. Isn't this apt? You make us feel the way Bob's little girl does to him.

Butterfly kisses

There's two things I know for sure:

She was sent here from Heaven and she's Daddy's little girl

As I drop to my knees by her bed at night

She talks to Jesus and I close my eyes and

I thank God for all the joy in my life

Oh, but most of all

For butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer

Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair

"Walk beside the pony, Daddy. It's my first ride".

"I know the cake looks funny, Daddy, but I sure tried".

In all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right

To deserve a hug every morning

And butterfly kisses at night.

Sweet sixteen today

She's looking like her Mama a little more everyday

One part woman, the other part girl

To perfume and make-up from ribbons and curls

Trying her wings out in a great big world

But I remember

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer

Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair

"You know how much I love you, Daddy, but if you don't mind,

I'm only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time".

With all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right

To deserve her love every morning

And butterfly kisses at night.

All the precious time

Like the wind, the years go by

Precious butterfly

Spread your wings and fly.

She'll change her name today

She'll make a promise and I'll give her away

Standing in the bride-room, just staring at her

She asked me what I'm thinking, and I said

"I'm not sure- I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl".

She leaned over, gave me butterfly kisses with her Mama there

Sticking little flowers all up in her hair

"Walk me down the aisle, Daddy- it's just about time".

"Does my wedding gown look pretty, Daddy? Daddy, don't cry!"

Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right

To deserve our love every morning and butterfly kisses

I couldn't ask God for more, man, this is what love is.

I know I gotta let her go, but I'll always remember

Every hug in the morning and butterfly kisses.

Baby steps

One small step can change your life ~ Robert Maurer, from "The Kaizen Way"

My dearest E.,

You took your first few baby steps yesterday. You were unafraid, unabashed, confident and grinning from ear to ear. Of course, you could already walk before- but you always preferred to cling on to my hand, or a piece of household furniture. Sometimes, you would only stand in your crib or on some soft surface where the risk of injuring yourself due to a fall would be minimized (you're so careful and smart that way!). Over the weekend, you enjoyed putting on your new Bubble Gummers shoes and taking them off, and begging me in your cooing way, to hold your hands so that you could walk around the house and try those new shoes out. They made squeaky noises as you walked, and you laughed with each step you took. You walk pretty damn fast for a baby, and I had to move quite quickly to keep up with you, too!

But yesterday, you made me and your father squeal loudly in delight. And begging for more! You stood on your own, holding a toy in one hand, examining your books on your little book shelf with your other hand. As I came down the stairs with a fresh change of clothes for you, you squealed loudly and started jumping on the spot- and most amazingly, you began to walk towards me. 7 solid baby steps. Your father and I leapt with glee and you continued to grin and laugh.

There is something about you, my sweet pea. When you set your mind to something, you get it done. I'm glad that you've learned to develop this very positive attitude. In life, we must always first take baby steps to achieve a larger goal. Life is a constant process of changing and learning-and with all that we do and seek to achieve in our lives, we take small baby steps, that will later shape us to take bigger steps towards achieving that particular goal.

As I watched you walking towards me, your arms outstretched, I see your future spread out before you. And the sun shining down on you-it's oh-so-bright and merry. Highly confident and sure of yourself, you took those baby steps to reach me. They are small now, but they will grow bigger, just like you, too...and soon you will be able to walk about quickly, run like the wind on your chubby legs...

It's funny, sweet pea. I've wanted to see you walk on your own for such a long time, and when I finally saw you walking yesterday, suddenly, I became selfish and wished otherwise. Your baby steps served to show me that you were growing into a young girl, determined and thoughtful: that you'd finally decided to walk for us, because you were finally sure about yourself. One day, you will walk away from your parents, walk down that aisle to be married to someone, to lead your own life and to have a little baby who will bring you as much joy as you have brought us.

I both look forward to and dread that day- but I also know that I cannot hinder your steps in life. That you must be allowed to grow to your full potential.

And I will always be here for you, holding your hand throughout, my heart open, my love for you on my sleeve, ready to pull you up if you ever fall down.

Missing You

Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart ~ Kay Knudsen

My dearest E.,

I've been extremely bogged down with work of late. It's the year-end frenzy, when companies want to close their accounts for their financial year, where deals are sought to be sealed, when people want to take a breather from the rigidities of daily working life and spend time with family and close friends during Christmas season. I have been working late every night, and don't get to spend as much time with you as I'd like to.

On Wednesday night, I was still at the office at 9.45 p.m., with no end in sight of the work I needed to finish by Thursday morning. I called my mother for a breather and she kindly offered to have you spend the night with them. We spoke on the phone a short while then, you and I, E. It was fun, and hearing your lilting voice cheered me up tremendously. You made little cooing sounds, as usual, and went on a frenzy of "words", "speaking" so much to your Mummy on the phone that my heart melted. I was, at least, comforted in knowing that your grandparents would take super good care of you. They are, after all, the only few people in this world I'd trust completely to take care of you.

By 11.30 p.m., I'd given up trying to complete all my work by the morning. Tired, hungry and exhausted, I wanted to just have a piping hot meal, a warm shower and my comfortable bed. And there was a terrible aching feeling inside me, that I wasn't able to place initially. I thought I was just tired out. Then the realisation hit me that I missed you. Tremendously.

Somehow, silence and emptiness greeted me when I came home. I mournfully surveyed your little blow-up swimming pool in the living room, your toy baskets in the corner, your jumbo Barney plush toy sitting by the piano. Images of you playing in the living room flashed before me. I heard your happy laugh ringing in my ears. I felt your warm arms close lovingly around my neck, your soft hair poking up my nostrils as you lay your head on my chest (You have such thick, lovely hair, sweet pea). I suddenly wanted to cry. The aching in my heart grew worse as I trudged upstairs slowly, dragging my feet.

I put my things down and meticulously removed my office clothes, changing into my towel to take a shower. Stood by your crib and looked into it for a long while, picturing you lying there with your chubby legs hugging your bolster, your repose peaceful and quiet, as you suckled on your Winnie the Pooh pacifier and twirled the corners of your blanket. I smoothed my hand over your silk quilt and "My Little Princess" comforter, folded your soft fleece blanket, fluffed your pillow and chased away the mosquitoes (if there were, indeed, any), doing as I do every night before you go to bed. I picked up your bolster and held it close to me, breathing in your sweet baby-scent. It was as if you were there with me, your lingering scent filling my nostrils.

I showered and allowed the water to run down my head, my face in warm rivulets. Standing there in the shower, I realised that I was crying. My heart ached ever more.

I went to bed rather depressed, but was comforted by your father's presence. I confessed to him how much I missed you, and he said that he did as well. We both snuggled close together, whispering in soft tones about your loveliness in general, and reminisced about how much youve changed our lives for the better.

I don't think I could stand to have you being away from us again- even for a night, sweet pea. My heart pains too much to have to do that and not have you beside me. That room in my heart which you fill with your wonderful presence was left empty for those long, 18 hours. I don't think anyone else would be capable of filling that void you left that night.

When we finally saw you the next evening, your smile of happiness at seeing us, coupled with your rush into my arms, made my world complete. Once more, the flowers started blooming again.... And the sun began to shine onto my dark world again.

Father

There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~ John Gregory Brown, "Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery"

My dearest E.,

I'm going to tell you about your father, because he'd probably be too modest or too shy to tell you. He's simply one of the most delightful and lovable people you'll ever meet in your lifetime, and I kid you not- when you grow up someday, you will forge a very special bond with your father, exclusive to the both of you, and I will look on with pride from outside the circle, with understanding and love. And I speak from experience, because your grandfather (my father) and I have this special bond, too: and indeed, it is so very special that it transcends all emotions of humanity, all things in this world. It's a love that's so big your universe fills up with it and it never goes away. I'd like to think that you and I will form our own special mother-daughter bond- but that's another story. Today I want to tell you about your father.

Your father grew up in a broken home. His parents divorced when he was very young, and his mother, through some crazed, demented phase she was going through, literally left him and his two brothers, your Uncles James and Jerry, at an aunt's home, and simply vanished. She remains unfound today, although she did make contact a few times throughout the course of the past decade and a half. For many years, your father and his brothers endured hardships but never complained. They were taken care of by kind family members (your paternal grandfather had his share of problems and was unable to raise them himself), but with each year, they shuttled back and forth through their various relatives' homes, finding no stable sense of security, no place to call home, no mother's or father's love to guide their way. They made few friends, and because of the constant need to move about their various relatives' dwellings, their friendships rarely withstood the test of time. All they had were each other, and till today, little E., you will see how much they value, love and care for each other. The brotherhood was all they had then. And notwithstanding the hardship and sometimes, poverty, they've all become wonderful, wonderful men: loving people with financial and career stability, good-hearted soldiers of God, good fathers and husbands. (Your Uncle Jerry is unmarried to date). I referred more to Uncle James and your father.

Your father is a truly unique person. I don't know if there ever existed such thing as love at first sight. But when I met him for the first time years ago, I already fell in love with him. He was so kind, funny and gentle. He made me laugh all the time. He was frank and uninhibited. And he was as handsome as a picture!-and still is, of course. We became friends first, your father and I, and grew fond of each other as time passed on. And of course, eventually, he also fell in love with me, and we got married. And look where we are now!- we have you, my dearest.

You know, E., I am still so in love with your father. Even till this very day, he doesn't fail to make me laugh, brighten up a gloomy day and ignite our love for each other. He still makes my heart beat faster and makes me feel all the feelings a woman does when she is in love (You will, in time, come to know what I mean...).

And when we discovered that I carried you, our precious fruit, in the belly of my womb, your father began caring for you with a love so intense, it was beautiful. He would gently rub my belly every night, massage my aching swollen feet lovingly and speak to you about all sorts of things, while playing your favourite Mozart CD. He treated both you and I like queens, little E.! He is a wonderful husband and a wonderful father.

Sometimes, when you may feel irritated at him, or when you feel that he doesn't want to let you go and spread your wings, and discover things in life for yourself, have a heart and think of how much he loves you. Think and picture in your mind all the wonderful things he has done for you. Your father and I, till this very day, sometimes cry, hugging each other close as we stand by your crib and watch you sleeping: because you have filled our lives with so much joy and love, it's painful. Sometimes, we watch the video taken of you when you were born, and we shed tears again.

Your father is a special person, sweet pea. Even though you may not hear his voice speaking to you the way I do through this blog, (he's not the writing type, your dad), you will somehow always hear his voice resonating at the back of your mind, loving yet cautious, wanting to set free the little butterfly that is you, but at the same time, wishing you would remain in your cocoon and depend on us for love, food, comfort, warmth and security.

I suppose I wanted to tell you that all these things I am saying to you, all these lessons I have learnt in life and am trying to impart to you, these are things your father would've said too. A father is really a little girl's best friend, a teenager's hero, a young lady's idol and a woman's ideal of her perfect husband. You will know what I mean someday.

Because my father is a hero, too... Just like your father.

Insomnia

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the lack of sleep. ~Dale Carnegie

My dearest E.,

Dale Carnegie's quote is so apt. Being deprived of sleep is bad enough. Your body and mind are tired, but for whatever reasons, you are kept awake and you need to attend to more important things than sleep. It was like that for me the first few months after you arrived- but I wouldn't change it for the world, sweet pea! Waking up in the middle of the night to nurse/change/feed you was the most amazing experience for me. Also fueled by the realization that you needed (and still need) me, my one desire during those moments was to provide for you and comfort you in your most vulnerable state. Now you sleep quite well almost throughout the night after your last feed, and although I welcome the resting hours I am given now, I do miss those times we spent together at night (or in the wee hours of the morning).

Sunday night/Monday morning found me unable to go to sleep. You fell asleep not long after your last night feed, and your father was watching football downstairs. I paced through "The Street Lawyer" by John Grisham, a book I had read at least 20 times and clearly showed it: with dog-eared, yellowed pages and higgledy binding. My body was yearning for rest, sweet pea. We had had a long day, especially playing with you, and I was exhausted. But my mind wandered, like an animal set free into the wilderness and long after I had finished reading my book, I was still lying in bed, comforter pulled up to my chest, staring at the ceiling. Your father came upstairs and fell asleep almost immediately upon his head touching the pillow. Still, sleep eluded me.

You moved in your sleep, shifting for a more comfortable position perhaps. Sometimes, you let out a tiny whimper. Or your little foot would find its way between the crib slats. I woke up each time to look at you, using the illuminant from my mobile phone as light. For a long while, I sat in front of your crib, resting my chin against the bed slats, just watching you. Your chest quietly heaving up and down, your tiny fingers gripping the corner of your blanket, your toes wiggling every now and then. Peaceful and quiet. You sleep the slumber of an angel. I counted my blessings again, and thanked the Lord that you were mine.

You know, E., when you can't sleep, you think. And I thought a lot that night. Of my work in the office. Of your grandparents. Of your father. Of you, most of all. As I sat there beside your crib, for over an hour, thoughts just kept washing over me, most of them memories of your early days. These thoughts were so vivid and crystal-clear and happy, that I found a tear rolling down my cheek. It was very dream-like. And like in dreams, that tear appeared to glisten as it quietly plopped on my hand- and the illumination of that tear opened up ever more doors to memories.

I finally blew you a kiss and went downstairs, unlocking our main door and ventured outside. I sat out there in our small, tiled "garden" for a long while, contemplating the silence of the night, occasionally shattered by the cry of a neighbourhood cat, or the distance rumbling of a car engine. The night was beautiful and quiet, the sky was high, dark and perfectly clear, completely cloudless, dotted with more stars than I could count. One star blinked constantly, and I took that to be some sort of satellite. Three stars, however, formed a perfect line. I wondered if that was supposed to mean something. I kept looking up, counting the bright stars, wondering what the world beyond ours was like.

Perhaps Heaven. I don't know. But that night, I fancied all the people I had loved and lost watching down on me. Most of all, I fancied my grandmother (my father's mother- she passed away the year your father and I got married) looking down on me. I could almost feel the light touch of her old frail hand on my head, the warm dry skin of her cheek pressed against mine, and I would breathe in the sweet pleasant smell of her scented powder. And I wished fervently that she could have stayed in our world a little longer, if only to see you. She would be so proud of you, my little one. She would've loved you as much as I do.

The sky was so lovely and endless, my little E. That wide expanse across our world. Who knows what lay beyond? I felt comforted, thinking about my grandmother that night. And someday, little E., when you're grown and sitting out in the garden watching the sky one lonely night and when I have been called into the world of spirits, always remember that I love you, and that I am only a heartbeat away. As long as the stars shine down from the heavens, I shall watch and guard over you, like the skies watch and guard over our world.