Dear little girl,
You were exactly seven months old on the 17th of March, and I love you.
I’ve loved you from the time I heard that you were going to be named “Victoria.” I loved you when I heard that you had been born last August. I fell even more in love with you when I saw those photos that your mummy posted publicly on Facebook, those photos that show you smiling with your eyes closed at only three months of age. I loved your grins, your smile, and your little round face. I loved how they first started calling you “Vi.” I’m not a fan of how they now call you “Vito.”
Baby, please know that I want to be a part of your life. I want to be able to play with you, kiss you, hold you in my arms, and watch you grow. I want to be there to see you walk. I want to hear you laugh, to calm you down when you cry, to rock you to sleep in my arms. I want to hear you coo and see you slowly learn to walk. But right now, I cannot be there.
Vi, I wish more than anything in the world to be a part of your life. But there is a time for everything under the sun, my darling. Right now I am praying to God that the time would come for us to meet . I am praying that everything would be done in order and in God’s perfect timing.
Your dad is a good man. He’s young, but I am sure he wants to do right by you. I am sure that you are in his thoughts, and that not a day goes by that he does not wonder about you. I know that, because he told me that he knows you will one day be smart, intelligent, and strong, just like him.
When he told me what he wanted your name to be, I actually said, “Victoria? That’s soooo old fashioned!” You know what he said? He said, “Victoria is a good name. The name of a queen. It’s classic, elegant, royal, timeless, strong, and beautiful. I’ll stick with Victoria.” And I am glad he did, my darling girl.
Vi, I pray every day that your dad might not be too late to decide that he finally wants in on your life. Right now, he tells me he is not ready, because he is young, he has dreams, he has ambitions, he has plans. This is no excuse to leave you dad-less right now, but I am praying for him to do the right thing, to take responsibility, and to be a daddy to you. I pray that the day he comes knocking at your door will not be too late.
You look like your dad. Your lopsided smirk, your big ears, the way your eyebrows crookedly raise, your forehead, the way your mouth is agape and your eyes are wide while you’re concentrating–they’re all him. Your beautiful light skin is also his. You are your daddy’s girl, there is no doubt.
Baby, if it was up to me, I would give up the life I am living and raise you as my own. But I know your mama and your grandparents will never ever let you go. How could they let go of a beautiful, precious little golden girl? How could they ever let you go? You are becoming more heartbreakingly beautiful everyday.
I want to show you so many things, tell you so many things, share with you my life. Most of all, I want to tell you of the God who fearfully and wonderfully made you. I want to tell you of His grace, goodness, and reality in this life. That is my greatest heartache, my dear: that you will not hear of this from anyone in your life right now. I pray instead that God would send someone to the doors of your home and win your mommy to Christ. I pray that one day, you might find Christ.
Dear Victoria, there are so many emotions I am feeling, so much love for you, so much I want to do for you. I don’t even know if you will ever get to read this. I don’t even know if I’ll ever see another photo of you. But as I wait for the right time to get to know you, I will love you in the only way I can at the moment: through prayer, hugs, and kisses, straight to Heaven, from my little corner of the world, straight to God, and down to you.
I love you very, very much. I’ll see you soon, God willing.