letter to my son

For my son, for when he wants to ask and I am not there to answer.

I know when you become a parent, if you choose to become one, you will remember me more and more as you establish in your new role as a dad. You will see me in you. You might sometimes like it and some other times I know you will say "fuck! it's scary how I am acting like her". Do not feel bad for saying that. I have said that and I can reassure you most people have experienced that scary moment of -oh my god I am acting like her- moment.

I try to imagine what you may remember from me, to see the picture of me in your head years from now... you will remember a woman who was always rushing through life, who always told you "come one baby, fast! mommy is late for work." The woman who hugged you and kissed you when she tucked you in and told you stories of her birth country, who said gratitude to mother nature with you in bed every night and didnt miss a chance to tell you about other ways of life in other places on earth. You will remember a woman who was tired a lot, who was not there for your karate lessons, for your violin class, for your swimming. Or maybe not, maybe these pictures come from my feelings of guilt and utter sadness for not being there for and with you more. Maybe the picture is a woman who sings silly songs with you in the kitchen as she is cooking and trying to show you how to make homemade yogurt. Maybe you remember a loud woman who ran after you in the backyard pretending she is a tickle monster. Maybe you remember a woman who took you to community events trying to teach you about community and nature and caring and sharing and such.

 The picture might be a woman who dances with the Wiggles and fusses over the amount of sweets you have had in one day, who is over protective and always worried that something bad can happen to you because so many bad things have happened in her that she has a hard time trusting this world can be any other way.

The picture in your head can be the woman who took you to the farmers market every other Saturday while holding your hand tight and gave you a loonie to give to the busker who plays Bob Marley, or it can be the woman who ran after you to "kiss attack" you and you were always faster than her.

I dont know what the picture might be my love, I dont know. But there is one thing I want you to know. This picture is only a part of your mom. The part that you could see, feel and remember. Change what you dont like about it and dont be that. Cherish what you like about it and do it with your own children and in your own life. And do not ever doubt one thing. maybe the picture is not all what you wanted it to be be but this woman, a flawed human being just like any other human being, loves you more than anything in this world, she lives in the sweet smell of your body, in the laughter in your eyes and in the warmth of your hands when she holds them at night watching you in your sleep.
That this woman is thankful, very very thankful, blessed and happy to have you in her life and in her heart.