I’ve had almost ten whole years of “just you.” Ten years of worrying about you when you’re not with me. Ten years of praying that I’m the person I should be for the person that you deserve.  Ten years of longing for more time with you. 

You were the one that made everything a first. The first time I felt a baby move. The first time I felt hiccups that weren’t mine. The first time I loved someone I had never met. You were the first smile, the first laugh, and the first “Mama” I heard. You were the first one that I could calm with just my voice. 

You were the one who taught me how to be a Mother. The one who taught me patience, perseverance, and selflessness. You made me fearless, and fearful all at once. I was your first love, and you were the beat of my heart. 

I don’t know if you’ll remember these precious days of being little. ⁣But, I’ll remember that for a moment in time…⁣

I’m the breakfast maker, still in my pajamas.⁣

⁣I’m the one who gets to play with you. And the one who says “maybe later” more than a little too often.⁣ 

But I’m also the one who sits in the audience and watches your God-given talent of athleticism, and leadership.  ⁣

⁣You are the prayer warrior. Someone quoted that you had STRONG prayers. I tear up just writing it out. ⁣

And the funny one. 

The artist and the thinker. 

You are the singer and dancer, too.⁣

I’m the teacher. I read the stories. You like how I change voices and enunciate the dramatic parts . But even still, you are my teacher, too. You teach me how to rediscover the magic in my life.⁣ Your energy is unmatched. 

I’m the one who gets to sing and dance with you.⁣ 

The one who gets to relive childhood joys with you, in favorite movies and games and songs.⁣ We love to binge movies, and eat snacks in bed. 

I picked you up early from school here recently (you used an Easter coupon I made you), and we climbed in the bed, with all our treats, and watched The Hardy Boys. You looked at me and said, “ I wish I could marry you so we could do this all the time. We could jump in the bed, with our snacks, and visit.” 

I felt a lump in my throat trying to fight back tears. I love being your Mom.

I know I’ll remember how much I worried.⁣

Will you stay safe? Am I doing the right things? Making the best choices? Do you know how much I love you?⁣ If I wasn’t your mom, would you choose me? 

You told me this year that if Jesus could have picked another mom besides Mary, He would’ve chosen me. It ripped my heart open. 

“You are the best Mom to me. I’m so glad you’re mine.”

I’ve often asked you what you’ll remember about me, as your Mom, when you’re older. “You love God.” I hope you always remember that. 

I hope you remember carpool days that end with Mocha Mugs, and their holiday coffees. 

And I hope you remember measuring our hands, and saying our prayers together over a bedtime tea. 

I hope you’ll remember learning about the world, and that I was always honest with you about how we aren’t meant for this world; just passing through. 

I hope you’ll remember how much I loved being your Mom, and a part of your precious life. ⁣

I pray that I’ve trained you up in the way you should go, and that you never forget Who you belong to, and Who you serve. 

I hope you’ll remember how we blasted music and danced in the car. Sometimes there was no music at all… and still, we danced, and sang. 

I hope you’ll remember you were happy child. And I was happy. We were all happy just spending time together. 

⁣And I hope you’ll remember that you are my everything — my sweet Dotta. 

⁣And somehow I am your everything, too. I’ll never believe I deserve it. But it’s true… when I look at you, it sparks life into your little spirit. It lights a fire in your heart. My attention is air to your lungs. And my love, nurtures your soul.⁣

⁣The truth is, I know you may not remember any of this at all.⁣

⁣But I will. 

⁣You have filled my cup, and it overflows for you. A lifetime with you is never enough. I want infinity, and beyond. 

Thank you for making me a Mama. You’re the best thing I’ll ever do. 

⁣