Our Girls.

A spirit of life and grace has come to rest here, and for that, I am made of joy. Each of these special days that has gone past, since the ones with our Sophie, has been wrenching and full of emotion. Today, tears well up in my eyes, as I write this. Profoundly bittersweet are these times, as we stare in wonder at our Eleanor, kiss her warm soft face, hear her sweet sounds, and snuggle her against ourselves - loving her in her smallness. The moments we spend as a family, touching hands and feet, rise up in my chest, and bring a smile to my tear-stained face. It is in these days with Eleanor that I am finally finding Sophie's place in our family. The aura of love, contentedness, and infinite possibility are things with which I credit her. I love her for the family she watches and the protection and providence she brings. Each day of my pregnancy, I thanked Sophie in prayer for watching our family, and giving us another day with sweet Eleanor, and that won't stop any time soon. Our family portraits may not include her, our holiday cards may not bear her name, and she may not hold her baby sister in this life, but our hearts forever carry her soft spirit. She is so elemental in our existence, and so very much here in the sunshine that fills our hearts and home. The sweet beautiful music that is Eleanor, and her Sister of the Sky.

And, from that moment,
the Princess of the Sky began planning.
With the first joy she’d felt in weeks,
she thought of all the most wonderful things
she had known while living in the clouds…

And, these things, she went to collect.

She bottled dragon’s fire,
and picked sweet berries.
She gathered night’s bright stars,
and shook gold dust from fairies.
She caught sweet rain in buckets,
and plucked the leaves from one rose.
She begged hues from one painter,
and preserved flakes of cloud-snows.
She found spices of the ages,
and a lock of hair like the night,
She pinched her skin of the morning,
and flashed her eyes of daylight.
She jarred the warm wind that flew,
and played sweet songs of her years.
She gave the silver from her wings,
and last, splashed blue from her tears.

And, finally, she assembled
this jumble of her favorite heaven-things.
With them, in a sack made of pure warm hope,
she floated, lightly, down to earth.
As she entered the earth kingdom’s blue sadness,
the contents of the bag softened,
and began to murmur and move gently.
The Sky Princess cradled the sack
with a tenderness even she had never known
as she saw the King and Queen,
once again holding each other in the garden.
And, for the first time, she felt sadness and love
mix beautifully together, as she ran her small hands
across the bag’s warm, whispering surface.

And suddenly, her wings fluttered,
and she felt herself,
transformed into spring’s first butterfly.
She was the color of ripe peaches,
and she kissed their faces just so –
her wings brushing gently on their cheeks.
She did not speak,
but the King and Queen heard
her silent song as she cried
and softly handed them the satchel
that held her tiny baby sister.