Though you were born on October 2nd, it’s October 1st I will always think on as the day you decided to be born, finally making your grand entrance at midnight.

Squishy newborn Linden.

How did you know to come out on just this day? How did my body know you were ready to be pushed forth into the world? It’s truly a miraculous thing, being born, and probably the bravest thing we will ever do in our lifetime–to leave a place so comfortable and safe and emerge into a cold, bright world with its relentless, constant pull down, down to the dirt and stone, an urgent neediness so different from the freedom to turn and float that we knew in the womb.

And we continue to face the harshness of this world, and even find the moments of light and joy so effectively that the harsh becomes mundane and tolerable, and those moments of wonder are the points upon which we hinge our happiness. How miraculous, indeed!

These past two years have also been filled with tiny and momentous miracles, difficulties, triumphs, and much laughter. You went from a sweet newborn who slept soundly, mercifully, through the nights in your bassinet at my bedside, somehow aware that I needed the rest to be able to bring you to our store every day, to an infant who stopped sleeping as you became more aware of the world around you, cluing into the fact that you had a unique place in it. Rolling from the spot I’d place you on the floor, testing the boundaries of your ability and existence, and finding mobility on your bum, pulled by your legs, sitting upright so you could see what was to come (especially the food), you became a baby.

And eventually, after some time and perhaps just a small bit of worry on my part, you stood up and tested your feet, moving forward, then backward, then running, then up into the air and jumping from heights! Now you climb, you crawl, you twirl, and dance. You talk and sing and laugh and yell. You make jokes, even. All of these miracles, new ones every day, and I get to witness them all.

First triumphant steps.

I truly understand now why our birthdays are a day when we get gifts and good food and a celebration. It’s everyone else’s way of saying “thank you.” Thank you for giving us these miracles every day, reminding us of the very reason why we left the comforts of our own primordial existence to emerge into this sometimes cruel place. I am so grateful for this, for you.

Happy Birthday, dear Linden.