Dear LA,
I’m writing this to you at the end of your very first year. A year where you taught all of us how much wonder can fit into a single day.
Your first year on this earth has been pure light. You arrived small and curious, and somehow in twelve short months you’ve become this bright little soul who crawls with purpose, pulls yourself up with that tiny burst of determination, and fills every room with your sweet jibber‑jabber.
You look at your daddy with that sparkle in your eye, as if you already know he’s the one cheering you toward every brave little leap; gymnast, soccer player, or whatever your heart decides to chase.
And when you spot your momma, you light up instantly. She’s your comfort, your quiet, your safe harbor in this big new world.
You clap like it’s your superpower. You point at people like you’re the tiny mayor of every room. And that smile of yours…it’s the kind that softens even the hardest days.
You’re my little light‑chaser, fan‑watcher, shiny‑thing spotter; always following whatever sparkles or spins.
Christmas time with you was pure magic. You loved the lights, always so mesmerized, and you waved at every single one. You waved and said hi to every decoration, even the Christmas tree, like y’all were best buddies. You brought a glow to the whole season that I hope never fades.
When you look back on this someday, I hope you can feel how deeply you were loved; not just for what you could do, but for who you already are: curious, joyful, brave, and full of light.
With all my heart,
LyLy
