Firstborn child. Oh so like her daddy.
Black and white thinker. Rule follower. Bossy Natural leader.
Impossibly sensitive, yet outrageously wild at times. Prone to anxiety.
Holder of a tender spirit. Giver of the best hugs.
Organized. A sorter, a list maker, an organizational giant (This is the one trait she did not, repeat did not get from her dad. Well, she didn't get it from me, either, truth be told).
An incredible sense of humor. Joy that bubbles over.
Sweet child, it took me 5 years to "get" you. OK, OK, I still don't totally "get" you. But... I do. For a whole year now, I really can see underneath your utterly complex make-up.
It took me 5 years to throw away the box I was trying to stuff you in. To ignore the parental legalism that was swimming in my head. To look at you as the young lady the Creator of the Universe had molded with His very hand.
It has allowed you to blossom and grow instead of be stifled by that box that you just didn't fit in.
I thank God every day for you. I thank Him that He's pricked your heart with such a love for Him already.
And, I thank Him for the relationship that He's given to us. For the times you intertwine your fingers together behind my neck and whisper "I love you" in my ear. And for the times we talk and journal through your feelings, and you go from despondent to joyful in a matter of minutes.
I love you, sweet Corene. Happy Birthday, big girl.