To my son’s Mommy in Heaven —
We’ve never met. I never got to know you. But somehow I feel like I’ve known you for years, and I think I can safely say that we would have been great friends. That is, if you’re anything like your girlfriends and cousins…I KNOW we would’ve been.
To say I’ve wanted to write this letter to you for a while now would be an understatement. I’ve probably written it in my head a million times. And I’ve definitely prayed most of this to you on those hard days I’m asking you for guidance. I also have tears streaming down my face already and I’m only 7 sentences in. But, here goes.
To my son’s mommy. I hope you hear my prayers to you. I pray to you on the hard days for guidance. You see, this boy of ours, well he’s a handful sometimes. And some days I lose it. Some days I don’t know how I’m making it ’til bedtime. And some days I just need to know the best way to react. I turn to you for guidance, and at the very least, maybe you’ll put a bug from above in his ear to calm it down.
Some days I make mistakes. Big ones. I feel like I get it all wrong. So in those times I pray to you and hope you’ll give me some guidance…and at the very least, some grace. Thank God for grace. I pray that you see my heart is in the right place. That you know I’m doing the best I can to raise our boy in a way that would make you proud. Because if our roles were reversed, I also pray that same would be given to me.
And then there are the days I feel that gentle nudge of reassurance from you. I feel that you know I’m doing the best I can to raise our boy into a man. I want so badly to do right by you. You deserve that and so does he.
To my son’s mommy. I hope you know that I don’t take the important holidays I get with him for granted. I think of you and feel you every Mother’s Day, birthday, and Christmas. Oh, does my heart feel you those days…especially Mother’s Day. He doesn’t remember a Mother’s Day with you, but I hope you know my heart shares it with you every year. Christmas mornings I always think of you, too. I know you’re watching from Heaven as the magic of the day through his innocence and awe. And on those days, I give him an extra long hug and kiss as I tuck him into bed just for you. I’m pretty sure those come straight from you, too.
I hope you see the cakes I get every year on your birthday — August 20th. He sings you Happy Birthday and blows those candles out in your memory. And every year he’s always got the biggest smile as he does it. Our boy will always be able to celebrate your birthday every year, and I promise that I’ll keep that tradition going. You deserve it.
To my son’s mommy. Sometimes I’m jealous of you. You see, most of the time I completely forget that I didn’t give birth to our boy. That was you. So, when he asks me about something from when he was a baby, I don’t have the birth stories or the baby stories to tell him. And that’s hard. I can’t compare him to his brother and sister, because he wasn’t in my life during that stage. I tell him the stories I’ve been told through his daddy and your parents, but so much of that is lost. And it breaks my heart….for him, and for you.
To my son’s mommy. You’ve been gone for five years now. He was only 2 when you passed away — a baby! I cannot begin to imagine the heartbreak you must’ve felt. As a mother, to know how much you love your child, it’s just not fair. But I pray, OH how I pray, that every day I raise him I’m doing so in a way to make you proud. In a way that would make you so so happy that you orchestrated the meeting of his daddy and I. (We all know that was your hand in it!) Time will pass, he will continue to grow (he’s almost 8, can you believe it?!), but I pray I’m raising him into a man you’d be proud of.
Oh, how I wish you could see him now. He’s smart..SO smart. And this boy is the BEST big brother. Goodness, his siblings adore him. He loves Legos and seriously thinks your dad hung the moon! There’s nothing better than his belly laughs and snuggles, and he’s got the kindest heart. I’m sure he gets that from you, too. The older he gets, the more his daddy sees your traits in him. And I love that for him.
But on those hard days, still find a way to give me that gentle nudge. That easy feeling that I’m doing something right. Know I’m doing my best. I love him more than life itself. And I’m so grateful that you helped to choose me to raise this child. Thank you for him.
Because this 9 year old, big brown eyed boy that made you a mommy first…well, he also made me one, too. He now calls me momma; it’s not something I take that lightly.
And we are forever connected.