Oh, MacKenzie — it is your BIRTHDAY!

You are nine years old today

and I just don’t think I’m going to allow it.

In fact, I’ve decided you have to start going backwards.

Next year, you’re eight.  Then, seven.  You can’t grow up!

But growing up you are; I see little glimpses of it all the time.

– — –

MacKenzie, let me tell you about you and me.

You are at a place in life where you are able

to be more verbal about needing me

and yet less verbal about needing me at the same time.

You are the oldest of the fabulous five,

so I feel like you and I are in uncharted waters sometimes.

I’m learning each day how to love you more,

trying to take clues from you and God.

Whenever you read this when you’re older,

I want you to know that you were deeply, deeply loved

as a little girl but also as a nine year old girl.

Happy Birthday, Miss MacKenzie.

We’re going to make being nine oh so fine.