Continuing on in my Month of Thanks, here is my letter for October 26th.
To My Son,
You are a blessing in disguise.
Set in my decision to not have any more children, the discovery of being pregnant again, especially given where I was in life at the time, was devastating for me. I was finally in a place where I could start to focus on myself again, rather than small children, and I found myself suddenly starting all over again. You were an inconvenient hitch in my plans for myself, but life had a plan of its own. Selfish as this may seem, until you’ve known what it is to set your own wishes and dreams aside in favor of what’s best for other people, you cannot know the difficulty and frustration self-sacrifice can bring.
But from the moment you were born, a brilliant light entered my world, along with trepidation. With girls, I knew what to expect, what sort of things they would encounter as they grew. But a boy? Where do I begin? How do you raise another person so different from yourself?
In short, I discovered the answer was simple. Love is the only requirement for a child like you, and you make it easy. From day one, you attached yourself to me and that has not faded for a moment, even three years on. You need me in a way your sisters never did, absolutely and completely a momma’s boy through and through. You tell me regularly, at unpredictable intervals that you love me, that you need my hugs, that all you want is to be near me. Your intelligence astounds me, and we have conversations that consistently make me smile. Your questions range from “do clocks have gears?” one moment, to “what does a wild boar look like?” in the next, following up with “does Batman ride a scooter?”. You keep me on my toes with your endless curiosity and sometimes leave me speechless at the things you understand.
Because you are so wonderful, it’s become my goal to preserve that in you. When you convince your sisters to paint your nails because you love the colors, or want to play tea party because it’s another excuse to have cookies, I smile rather than offer disdain as those things “should only be for girls”. We talk superheroes and dinosaurs and bugs as you prepare your latest concoction in your kitchen… soups with chocolate and cucumbers and grapes and mushrooms, always accompanied by a cup of coffee because you know me so well.
Maybe for the first time, I know what it feels like to have someone love me for everything I am, including the things I am not. You don’t criticize. You don’t expect me to change. You hug me with unreserved adoration that still knocks me off balance, insisting you will stay small so you can always cuddle on my lap. And now, with certain stories, you insist on reading them to me, rather than the opposite. You help with laundry, usually insist on lending a hand in the kitchen, and always seem to know when I most need your hugs.
Some day, some lucky person will know what it’s like to be loved by you, and I hope they realize how truly blessed they are. To have you in their corner is to have an angel with them always.
Life does not always agree with my plans, but after life gave me you, I will never again doubt that it knows better than I do.
My Love Always,