This was floating around in my head as i was falling asleep the other night and i thought i had better write it down.
Dear Tristan,
I love you. I say these words to you a dozen times a day. I say them so often that I wonder if they just flow over you, part of the current of adult dialogue that swirls around your head at all times, the lot in life of an only child.
I knew as a child that my mom loved me, but I didn't truly comprehend what that meant until I had you. When I say those words to you, this is what I mean:
I love you fiercely, deeply, painfully and joyfully. I love the You who fluttered in my belly, the You who gazed up at me in wonder as you nursed, the You who splashes in puddles and kicks ass at video games and has better manners than most adults. I love all the Yous that have been and the You that is now and every You that is still to come. I love you so hard that it long ago burst open my heart, and now the love spills freely from me and washes across the earth as I walk. I am never without the glorious weight of it in my heart.
I am better for being your mother.
I love you.
Love,
Mommy