JimFormation

I’ve been given the assignment of writing something about my daughter for her high school yearbook — she’s graduating this year. A photograph of her as a baby will accompany the essay. I have 200 words. Here’s what I just wrote:

She was so small. One of the smallest people we ever knew. She weighed just under six-and-a-half pounds. And she was ours.

We were young when we met her, in our mid-20s. She didn’t say much at first. Just looked around and strained to make out the blur that was this bright, loud world.

We had to hold her opposite of the way you’d hold most babies. She didn’t like the chest-to-chest kind of snuggle hold; at least not when there were things to see. She wanted to face the world, not turn her back to it.

She was so small that she was lost in the car seat that took her home. So small in our hands. Smaller still in our arms. We called her the ittibittiness. Still do from time-to-time. She smiles when she hears it. And she’s our baby again.

When we got home we placed her on the couch between us. She was sleeping. We looked at each other and asked, “What next?”

18 years of “what-nexts” have brought us here. The ittibittiness is graduating high school. We are very proud of you.

We love you.

What next?

Mom & Dad

196 words.