Today is your birthday. Today, you are 8 years old. While this might seem like any other day to anyone else, it’s far from ordinary to me.
8 years ago today, you changed me, and I would never be the same. It was you who made me a mom, a title I hold now for 2 other little boys, your brothers.
It shocks me how the world is still turning, how this day doesn’t freeze for everyone else. It’s like the world spins so slowly, I can hear it. Nothing moves, yet at the same time, it’s all moving so fast around me, and I’m the only thing that’s still.
You’ve had a big year, you made the news, and I heard your voice for the first time. I heard you speak, I saw you in a different way, and that changed a lot for me. It made you more real, I can now hold your voice in my head where I never could before.
It doesn’t seem possible that we’re here already…a day this big, this hard, this emotional…it feels wrong. It feels wrong to exist on this day without you.
I should have woken up this morning and gone into your room with a handful of balloons and a video camera in your face ready to yell happy birthday at you, like I do every year for your brothers.
I should have baked you a cake, planned a party, stayed up way too late last night decorating the house for your big day…but I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Those jobs don’t belong to me. They never did. You were mine to hold and mine to love for such a short time. A time that means the most to me…more than any other gift I’ve received.
It’s been 8 years, but I remember it so perfectly. I remember you so perfectly.
You’re no longer than little baby who I once knew. You’re an 8 year old boy now, the most perfect boy I’ve ever seen. You love Pokémon and hate blueberries. You are kind and loving and empathetic…you’re amazing.
Today, I will text your parents and wish you a happy birthday, and ask them to give you a hug for me. I wish I could do more, but I hope you get the message. And the hug.
A boy should be with his mom on his birthday. I’m sorry you don’t have that today.
Right now, I’m feeling especially numb. The world is happening around me, but it’s like I’m not a part of it. I look around and I question how time doesn’t stand still for everyone else today. When it seems so impossible for me.
I wonder if you love me, if you know me…if you think of me. I know I think of you.
I wonder if you hear stories about me, talk about me…want to know about me.
I wonder if you wait for pictures of me like I wait for pictures if you.
I wonder if you care. But even if you don’t, that’s okay. It’s not your job to care, it’s not your job to love me, it’s not your job to miss me.
I actually hope you don’t. Those are selfish wants, and really, all I want is for you to be happy, to thrive. Even if that’s without me.
I’ll wait into break down later..I’m sure it’s soon to come. Right now, the numbness is overpowering.
I’ll wait to see your picture, a text from your parents, a post on their Facebook.
I’ll wait to succumb to the sadness…the tears will make their way, I’m sure.
I’ll wait to hear your voice again, I’ll wait to learn everything about you.
I’ll wait until I get to hug you again. But I hope that time comes soon.
I’ll wait until you’re mine again. One day, one day…maybe that time will come.
I’ll wait until you’re ready, I’ll wait until you choose me. And if you do, I’ll be ready.
When you need me, I’ll be waiting.
I’ll be here, and I’ll be ready.
I love you, son. And you’ll never know how much. That’s what breaks my heart most of all. You’ll just never know how loved you are. You’re my favorite person, my strength, my courage.
You’re my everything.
This day is for you. Every day is, but this day especially. I have more to say, but for now, this blank numbness is…rough.
I love you, you deserve it all. I hope you have it all.
(((I love you always, but today I love you so, so, so much extra)))