#samni

Dear Piper,

I’ve got many stories from my life that I hope to share with you. I’m guessing by now you’ve heard many of them, and you may have noticed a pattern; some of the craziest come from birthdays.

After changing you and feeding you a snack (mushed bananas, by the way. your mother doesn’t approve) I had considered writing this letter to tell you about what happened July 18th of this year. It was by far the craziest birthday I’ve had yet, I’ll tell you that much- but I won’t waste your time with that. I’m here to talk about your birthday.

It’s funny, really. As you already know, you were adopted. Your aunt Samni found you and brought you to us because, well, she’s terrible with kids. And I mean terrible- she’s held you maybe three or four times as of now, and everytime she looks like she’s about to launch you into space. Anyway, I deter. She found you on August 13th, and we were the first people she thought of when she sought to get rid of you. It’s nothing personal, really. It’s the whole ‘baby’ thing.

Now, it was some months before you were finally actually adopted. It took quite awhile, but that’s a story for another time.

Being adopted meant you had no actual discernible birth date other than medical guesses. Your cognitive and physical development allowed us to guess that you were no more than a couple months old (technically) when we got you, but we had no clue how long you spent in stasis. It was an enigma, and it was one that we had to decide for ourselves. Because no baby should grow up without a birthday. It came between two days- adoption date and the day we met you. Ultimately, we went with the latter because we remembered how we felt when we first laid our eyes upon you. That’s just the type of joy that should be preserved and remembered every year.

I’ve forgotten birthdays over the years, but I’ll never forget August 13th. Because that day was one of the happiest of my life. My wishes had been answered, and I can’t even begin to tell you the pure happiness you brought to your mother just by existing in the same room. She never knew if a baby she called her own would ever lie in her arms, and that summer day it finally happened. 

No matter where you are in life, I want you to remember the way you moved us. You brought us a happiness that we’d never have gotten otherwise, and we’ll always love you for that.

Happy birthday for all the birthdays between now and the day you read this.

Love,

Lyrelark Stratustorm.

mentions:

@varia-stratustorm —-(@green-felflame)