Twenty years.
I remember everything about the day you were born. I remember the time you started making your entrance into the world - on the first day of school. I remember my excited anticipation to finally meet you. I remember where my room was on the delivery hall, who came by to see me that day, and what your tiny newborn face looked like. I remember watching people cry and me just looking at you, marveling at the scene…wondering how I got so lucky to finally have the baby I always wanted.
The thing is, though, I don’t remember all the details of the past 20 years. They have flown by.
I remember car rides to school… road trips we took. I remember our quiet conversations in your lovely, soft bedroom light, and the never ending battle it was to first - get you to sleep as a baby, and years later - rouse you in the mornings for school. You always were a night owl.
I remember listening to your TV shows while I worked nearby and your deeper, developing voice as your played video games with your buddies over wifi. (I still am astounded by technology sometimes). I can hear the conversations we had as we planned out those elaborate wooden train tracks that we would play with for days on end. I can remember the angst in your voice as you sat down for homework and tried to put papers together that your ADD brain couldn’t handle at the time.
I remember YOU. How you make me feel - how you make everyone feel by just having you around - is programmed into my soul.
The experience I have had as your mother is singularly the best thing in my life. The feeling I have had with every sweet moment with you is seared into my soul - from day one to day 7300 (or something close to that). It’s been the best thing ever.
I have loved watching you grow into a man….into the human you are now. You have your own spirit that I will never squash. I love that you are brave and free and all of you. I love that you haven’t lost your empathy, your gentle spirit, your kindness, or your fire.
All these 20 years, the one thing I have asked of you - begged of you - is to not let the world change you. And thankfully, you haven’t. You are still YOU. But I would add that you are still becoming you. Becoming who we are is and evolving process. Hell, I am still doing it at 51. But you are doing it more gracefully than I could ever have done. I am so very proud of you.
Keep on being you, G. Keep on discovering you. Because this world needs who you are meant to be.
With all my heart, I love you,
Momma