Dear Ms. Feverfew –
When you were about four years old, your mom sent me a letter that told of how you loved purses. She said you carried them around with you everywhere, filled with bits of papers on which you had been writing. It was one of the only details of your life and childhood that was shared with me and I have long treasured it. That being said, I never understood it as I am most definitely not a “purse” kind of woman – that gene seems to have skipped me clean over.
Then along came Poppy, nearly 18 years later.
She adores purses. There’s no other way to put it. She’s been this way from the time she could toddle around the house. She won’t go to church without one. If we are headed out shopping, she has to have one with her. Heck, lately she won’t go to swim lessons without one!
As difficult as it was to survive the tsunami of emotions brought with the discovery I was having another daughter, Poppy is helping me know – in small part – what it might have been like if you had remained with me.
Yes, missing the chance to have your purses underneath my desk will always sting and hurt. However, when I allow myself sit with those dark emotions, Poppy’s love comes to sit beside me, too. Her joyful approach to life helps fill in those broken places. And as I sit with her love (and her purses!), a small smile of satisfaction steals across my face, a smile that starts down near my heart where you reside. Somehow, the small collection at my feet makes me think of both of my daughters with great delight. I can’t explain this delight or justify it – it just is.
Speaking of Poppy, here she comes now. She’s pulling a purse along behind her, full of those die-cast metal Thomas the Tank Engine trains, a love she shares with her brother Luke. The sweet irony of the trains being in her purse is not lost on me.
That’s my cue it is time to stop what I am doing here and play with this sweet creature. And while I am playing trains with her, you can be certain I will wonder if you liked to play with trains, too.