letters to octave

last night i tucked you in bed and i indulged in spontaneous daydreams of you as a young woman. i could see you so clearly. and i loved what i saw. just like now, i love what i see. i felt odd projecting visions onto you, because so often parents visions for children can be filled with their own unfulfilled desires or expectations. but in my heart of hearts, this felt anything but that. i am full and i am satisfied. it is easy for me to see you clearly. for you and i there are no should's. i have no idea of who you “should be.” should feels impossible. you are you. simply, perfectly and utterly, YOU. and you always have been. i look at you now and feel the same way i did when i first met you.

i was in awe of being knowing itself so fully, so maturely, so confidently. this was day one. you can imagine how i must feel six years later. a mama at school the other day watched you play on the playground after school and said, "octave doesn't seem like a kid. she feels like a full grown, all knowing woman in a kids body." I smiled, nodded, and wanted to say, "you have no idea. imagine how i feel the moment i met her. i felt completely overwhelmed. i questioned if i was enough, if i was the person to carry her through this life, to teach her all she needed to know. because in so many ways it felt like she already knew and sensed it all." but instead i just said, “ i know, i feel the exact same way.”

lately i feel like maybe we aren't teaching or learning from each other. maybe we are just remembering, and it was you and i that needed to do this remembering together. our souls have most surely traveled through time and space together. this is not our first go around. there is so much we already know and feel together. which is probably why you read my mind, more often than i could ever share, because no one would ever believe me. you were two months old when i had this inkling, and then eighteen months old when you repeated my exact thoughts. multiple times a week we have this occurrence and it makes us both smile ear to ear. but this night when i tucked you into bed, and in indulged in all my daydreams of you as a young woman, i told you how clearly i could see you as the mystical animal lady of the neighborhood with an apartment bursting at the seems with exotic flora and fauna, rats, snakes, dogs, fish, birds, reptiles, and the like. your toothless smile made my guts ache with joy. your shoulders shrugged and you chuckled the most smitten, and validated laugh I have ever heard. in that moment you were reminded that i see you fully, and for a few moments longer we savored that knowing. this picture is a few days later, but this smile is a small glimpse into that face and that knowing. this smile speaks the same language, and invites the integrity of that night, in your bed, when we talked about who you might be as a young and old woman, because you are already her, and in so many ways, you always have been.