Girlies. Girls. My favoritestest short persons in the whole universe. I love you.
It is early June. It is midnight on a Thursday. You are sleeping, and I am not, so I am writing a letter to you. It has been a little while since I told you this. I wish you had ears to hear it from inside my heart. Perhaps in heaven you will hear how deeply, how gently, how fiercely you are loved.
Littlest and cutest. You do not see how big you are. You love art. You have an intuition and exploration of some very cool, very advanced things. I wish I had even a little idea of how to empower you. Your foster-grandma Vicki W might. In art terms, I am an ant compared to her.
I see you with your positive spaces, your forms, and tools. I see how you explore depth and shading. I think your names are profound. "Spot festival" is amazing. God has put inside of you an ability to process aesthetics and create things that are too cool. I delight in you and am amazed by you.
Big girl. You get bigger every day, don't you. I see you resisting the despondency of teenagerhood. You love young justice, teen titans, and are on your 5th Harry Potter book. I love you. I love your mind and biology. I love your hard work, and your sense of justice. You are a beautiful creature.
I wish you knew your own names. Your true names. Your good true names. If you hear them too early it can hurt them. There is a time to "grok" such things.
God keep you girlies. Goodnight.