Click here to view Part I of this letter.
I know that this blanket, this gift, isn’t perfect. It swells and lumps unevenly — I was not consistent enough in my stitches. At one point, I seriously considered unraveling it to try to do it again, more perfectly, more consistently.
But then I thought: Perhaps the warping of the blanket, the fluctuations of the tension — perhaps these truly reflect the emotions of these transitional weeks.
And then I thought: We’re none of us perfect, not even us adults. We all make mistakes on the way. And if you (some months from now) will be willing to fall in front of others as you learn to walk, perhaps I can gift a fallen blanket as I learn this craft. For all its lumps and oddities, may this blanket still be of comfort. May it comfort you, perhaps, during times of mistakes of your own.
Welcome to the world, Baby. I’m so looking forward to seeing the ways that your days and season are colored as they weave to form your life. I’ll always be with you in my heart, praying that your tapestry be bright and beautiful.