Another year, another letterbox

Out into the void I send this year's newsletter. A few short pages to summarise a year in the life of one small child. A letter to people who created this my youngest child, people I catch a glimpse of in her features and expressions, yet people I have never met.

I write this blog, and the majority of you who read it are people who have never met me. So why does this feel different? I suppose because I have come to know some of you through comments here, others through your own blogs; those of you who read and yet don't comment are equally welcome. This is however my story, my blog, a glimpse into my life. You see my girls through my eyes, and I edit life to avoid telling other people's stories.

In theory, I write a letter to strangers every time I hit "publish". But it is so very different to writing a letter to these most intimate of strangers. Are they reading this as well as my annual "here we all are again" note? Should I just send a note telling them this exists, and inviting them to follow our adventure here, where they'd have far more frequent updates?

Do they want these letters? Am I getting them right, are they long enough, informative enough, photographic enough, honest enough? Do they include the full picture, or do I withhold information which might concern them? Do they wish to know this, do they collect them from the letterbox drop or are they sitting in a file somewhere? Do these letters open fresh heartbreak each year or ease the loss?

And I wonder at what point I ought to include this little person in the writing of them. She can write her own name now, ought I to have included her signature or a picture she has drawn? She's still fairly convinced I'm talking nonsense when I tell her she didn't grow inside me, would including her in this project help her to make sense of it, or would she expect a reply and would it unsettle her?

Should I have asked the questions I have for them? Ought I to share my hopes and dreams or stick to describing past events?

I don't know. But, it's done, for this year at least. And can be shelved for another twelve months.
I"m tired.
Tia