DIARY
Your laughter spun time into a dervish, and here we are. A year old.
My dear Annie Elizabeth, you deserve to hear this from me.
I’m sorry.
As it turns out, somewhere between two and three children was the time it took to make these little videos, these little poems about your getting older. It’s not that we didn’t take ten thousand pictures—we did—it’s just that you turned out to be the tipping point in time.
What I’m trying to say is that gone were the hours of sitting in front of a screen editing film, and in their place was you, my sweet girl. You were there, your gigantic smile, your wispy hair, your cuddling hugs.
Your laughter spun time into a dervish, and here we are, a year old.
We were in Texas, your Mom and I, and she was pregnant with you, and from that moment until the second you were born, you gave me a remarkable peace. And now that peace has blossomed into a joy that only you could bring.
So I didn’t make you as many videos as I wanted. But I’ll be there as long as you’ll let me, your Dad and his camera, trying to capture everything I can.
Happy birthday, Anna Banana. You are loved to the stars and back.
Natalie
James, this is so precious. What a gift for your children. The video and you. Hugs, my friend.