Dear Emerson,
Today is a strange day. September 19th is typically hard day for me, sometimes I am able to be positive about this day, and be a strength for others, and sometimes I want to be left alone to wallow in my self pity. But this day feels totally different now that you're here with me. You could probably tell something was different because when I walked in your room to get you out of your crib this morning, I started to cry the second I saw and you seemed a little confused. I was even a little confused because it came out of no where. After all, for most of the people in the world, today is just a normal day the same as any other. But 11 years ago on this very date, I lost my mom.
I shouldn't say I lost her, she isn't lost. She died. She is in heaven now. Sometimes I have dreams that I find her and she faked it all so she could run away, but those are just dreams and nothing else. But that number, 11, is scary to me. Every year I get closer to a number that will mean I've been without her longer than I got to be with her. I never wanted the majority of my life to be a life without a mother. But sometimes we don't get to choose our circumstances.
This day, it makes me feel different with you here. It doesn't feel overwhelmingly sad, but it doesn't feel like I can be super positive either. I think what's different is that now that you're here, I have to be sad for an entirely second person now.
Now that you're here I feel sad for me and for you.
I feel sad for you because you don't even know the goodness that you're missing out on without her here. and I feel sad for me because I do.
I feel sad that you won't ever be in a single photograph with her.
I feel sad that she doesn't get to hold you and kiss you and brag about you to her friends.
I feel sad because she's not here to tell me how similar you are to me when I was baby and to argue with me about new parenting tactics vs old school parenting tactics.
I feel sad that she doesn't get to come stay for too long to spend time with you and get on my nerves.
I feel sad that I won't ever get to see how excited you get when she walks in a room.
I feel sad for you that you won't ever get to hear her tell you how much she loves you.
I feel sad that I can't send her pictures of you everyday so we can laugh together about how funny you are. But most of all I feel sad that she's been gone so long that neither you nor I will ever have the slightest idea what it would feel like to have all of these things with her. Because for me she's only memories now and for you she'll just be stories other people tell you.
But that's just life sweet boy, everyone dies sometime. Which means a lot of people have to go through their life too long without moms, and dads, and grandmas, and grandpas. And quite frankly, the way my life worked out after she died was a series of intricate events that led me to your dad which ultimately led to the creation of you (sorry to be gross) and I can't know for sure but there's a large possibility that if she were alive I wouldn't have you or your dad so I can't say that I would change anything, as hard as that is to say out loud. If I only got to have my mom for a short time in my life so that I could end up with you, then so be it. You are worth everything to me. I would suffer the worst pain a million times over for you.
In spite of this strange sadness I'm feeling today, to be over indulgent in self pity today or any day would be a slap in the face to all the huge blessings in our life that we have. We have a good life. But it's okay to be sad, and feel things that are hard to feel. But, when you're mourning what you don't have don't let yourself forget who and what you DO have. Which is a lot of things and a lot of people.
I love you, sweet baby.
