It’s funny the things you remember about becoming a mother. Like the exact hour and minute you came into this world—2:52pm on a Tuesday. Or the warm blankets they wrapped me in after I delivered you at the hospital. And the people that came to visit us in those early days. I’ll never forget the spot on your head that I kissed for the very first time. The spot I’ve kissed every day ever since.
I’ve thought about this day, your eighteenth birthday. It’s strange how it feels so fast now that it’s here, but in some ways like we’ve lived a lifetime already. I wondered what you’d be like and if I’d have done an ok job raising you. I imagined the good you’d be doing in the world and what your voice might sound like. I hoped you’d still remember our days of light sabre battles and movie marathons.
But I never imagined how hard it would be to reach this day. A day that you likely have waited a while for. A time where you feel your independence is no longer in question or disputed. An age that labels you an adult and frees you from the clutches of your controlling and overprotective mother. A day where I’m supposed to let go and pat myself on the back because my work is done, while sending you off into the world. But here’s the thing my son … Motherhood is never done.
And so a few things I share with you today on this very special day, which I hope someday you’ll read again with the same parent eyes that I write this with. And hopefully one day you’ll understand the depths of my love for you.
While today you curse the conviction behind my beliefs, know it is this same determination that helped you learn to stand up for what’s important to you.
While you’re frustrated by the lessons I have to teach, know that it’s taken twice the amount of time, heartache, and self-doubt to figure out how to teach it to you when I could have easily been indifferent.
While lately my strong will might seem to limit your choices, know it was this strength that helped me rock you to sleep every night you were sick or afraid while doing it on my own.
While some days you question my need to protect you, know that it is this fierce nature that ensured you were never alone and always safe.
While sometimes you may wonder if I think about you when you’re not here, know that it feels like a physical part of my body is missing when my children are not with me.
While right now you wish I would leave you alone, someday you’ll wish you had just one more day with me.
While you become excited by the prospect of love in your life, know that it was the first moments of your life when you slept upon my chest that you first learned the meaning of unconditional love.
So many more things that I could say, but for now I’ll leave it at this: Happy birthday my boy.
Your childhood is my badge of honour, your future is what my dreams are fueled by.
Don’t rush to be a grown-up—just walk.
And know that I’ll never view my job as done … just consider me a very vocal freelancer ;) xo
Love,
Mom
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