Ziva
Her eyes are bright, like the meaning of her name; and full of laughter, like the future foretold
Her cheeks, rosy, plump. The evidence of unselfish and wholehearted sustenance from the prized vessel of arrival.
Time has indeed been kind. Giving the strength to do what we stared at through keyholes in awe.
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A reason to never fear what the future brings for everything always turns out just fine.
I am more me now than ever before for in her, I found all the validation I would ever need; a self-realisation that hit me on the august occasion of her arrival.
10.12.16 — numbers that symbolize the death of self and the birth of love; overflowing emotions held intact by unexplainable steely blankness that heralded the day it all changed.
She is my stamp of approval from Heaven; evidence of all that is pure, true and good in my world and an affirmation of love.
She is my daughter.
