feet

When Ellie first started walking, I thought of that phrase "the pitter-patter of little feet", only it seemed more like the "ka-thunka-thunk" of little feet to me. But last night, when I asked her if she wanted a snack and walked into the kitchen, I heard a distinct pitter-patter down the hallway after me.

Today Ellie is 17 months old. It's unbelievable. It's the sweetest feeling in the world to have this incredible little person to love, entertain, teach, feed, take care of. Tomorrow marks one month prior to Abigail's three-year "birthday". I don't even want to think about who I would be if we hadn't had Ellie. It's hard enough to deal with missing Abi, even with Ellie's smile and sweet silliness to bolster me up.

I hope I never forget the feeling of Ellie's small feet resting just above my knees, as I stand in front of her high chair feeding her yogurt. Last night that was one of those moments that I just savored, feeling so grateful. I owe that awareness to Abigail. I'd give anything to have her with me, but since I can't, at least I can keep from taking moments like that for granted.

It's going to be a long month. Abigail's been on my mind quite a lot for the last month and a half already. Every year I think, "This year it will be easier," but somehow it never is. Or at least, it's never remotely easy. I do think this year will at least be a bit easier than Abigail's first birthday, when I was pregnant and a total basketcase of stress, fear, and worry.