One

Tomorrow my baby turns one.  It's been a long year.  We are all a year older, a year wiser.  One of my favorite short stories is Eleven, by Sandra Cisneros.  Have you read it? It's a great little story.  It really speaks for all the years we have inside of us, like little Matryoshka dolls, nesting one inside each other.  I keep repeating to myself, It's her birthday, and mama is making her a cake, and everyone will sing Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday to Maura.  It's her birthday.  She's still so tiny, so fragile.  How can she possibly be one?

I'm making a string of pictures for her birthday.  I ordered them today.  They start at the beginning and go all the way up to just recently.  How far we've come, I think to myself, and how far we've yet to go.  She'll get there and for now, I won't dwell on it.

Because tomorrow is her birthday and Mama is making a cake and everyone will sing Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday to Maura.