A Far Away Thank You

Dear Irma,

Five years ago today, you gave a family you'd never the most precious gift you had to offer. To say thank you barely scratches the surface of what your gift has meant to our lives. The strength and wisdom you had to exercise to part ways with something so valuable is incomprehensible to me.

I think of you often, wondering if you miss the gift you selflessly gave away. I can't imagine life without this gift, yet you live without her every day. How do you do it? Do you think of your baby girl when you see a mother with a newborn? How do you feel when your friends have children? What memories do you have of her? Do you cherish the moments you got to share with her before you said goodbye, or do they bring you pain? The heartache you must feel is likely far deeper than most could understand. Only those strong enough to give their own precious gifts away could begin to comprehend it, to empathize with it and to be able to understand it without needing any words to do so.

This gift you gave has given our lives new meaning. The joy she emanates from her core is contagious to all of those who encounter her. Her giggle is as melodious as music. Her eyes sparkle and shine brighter than you'd expect. She's all girl, full of songs and designs and dances and games and compassion and sensitivity and kindness. She's a loyal friend, quick to comfort someone who's been singled out or treated badly. She's gentle with those younger and smaller than her (though, admittedly, finding anyone smaller than her is a feat these days!). She's smart and creative and loves to learn. She has a zest for life that helps those around her to love their own even more.

I can only imagine that some of these qualities that make her so special come from you. After all, someone so generous as to give her child to another woman thousands of miles away, someone who can trust another human deeply enough to let the stranger care for the most invaluable thing she'll ever have, must have passed that on to her own child. Though you must have known great loss in saying goodbye, I hope you can feel our great love from so far away. We love her, but we also love you. We treasure her, and we treasure that we would not have her if not for you. When we hug her, we sometimes feel amazed that we get to and you don't. I hope you've realized, at some point in the past 5 years, that as the giver of this gift, you are as precious as the gift herself.

Today is a milestone. Our little girl turns 5 today, Irma! I'm sure you haven't forgotten December 3, 2005; I hope you're celebrating this day in your own special way. It's so surreal that it's even been five years. How did time pass so quickly? It's been so full of goodness and joy and delight; I hope you've had those, too. I hope you've found fullness in life the way you've given fullness to us. Know that we're thinking of you, thankful for you, and forever changed and made better, more complete, because of your sacrifice.

Thank you, Irma. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

With love, gratitude, and awe,

Jenny - Glenda Patricia's tia

2006...

2007...

2008...

2009...

2010...