Over the weekend, I watched my baby cousin get baptized. Sure, the religious markings were all there. The holy water. The frilly infants. The priest scolding me for getting too close while taking pictures.
But what about the personal markings? The blessing of this new little girl?
As a family growing up, we've always been outnumbered by girls. Even though the matriarch, our dear grandmother passed away when we were young, we had our grandfather who was the most sensitive and was built to take care of women. He had a mashed potato soft spirit that wiped away tears without discomfort and gave hugs away like chocolate chip cookies. He just understood our souls, having three daughters himself. And we were raised with strong mothers, and aunts and we are close, really close, like females tend to be.
And then people started getting married and having boys (like Little!) and the numbers were balancing off.
And then Mia came.
And while I don’t care much about what it means to be a "girl" in whatever traditional sense Martha Stewart defines (read: I don't contribute frosted cupcakes to events, I have zero tolerance for debates about tablecloth colours) I do fiercely love what it means to have another one in our family.
Because we get to add Mia to our girls table. And we will tell her that she is smart and funny and interesting, because too many little girls are only told they are pretty. Even though her eyes, those gray-blue orbs, rare in our family, can already disarm a heart with a half-blink.
And yes, I fully understand that no one's family is perfect, not even mine, but this baby girl is.
Below are some photos from the event. Table design by my sister Mel Marie, photos by yours truly.
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