I don't know how many years I have left to tell her,
particularly on this date of all dates,
how much I love her
how much my life is better because she is in it
how much I have grown as a person,
as a woman,
as a mother,
as a friend
because she is in my life.
When she is in the depths of her disdain for all that I am,
for all that I do,
for all that I say,
for all that I live,
I will try to remember
that the number of years I have with her is finite.
But that our love is infinite.
Happy 11th birthday, Girly Q.