Day 29: A Letter To My Son

Hello There Boy,

This is your letter. It’s a special one. I’ve been baking it, pondering it and at times wrestling with it for a few weeks now. I knew I would get it here eventually, it’s just been a process. One day you will understand what a process is, for now don’t you worry about it.

A decade, that’s how long you’ve been around, and from the moment you entered our lives you have been loved, treasured and cherished, that won’t ever change, no matter what the future holds, your place in our hearts is secure and safe and growing daily.

Some days I catch myself looking at you and just shaking my head because I cannot believe how fast time has flown! My memories are so fresh that I can still smell the powder and wipes scent of your nursery.

I love it that you remember special things too! Like the time I imprinted you with the scent of lavender!! I guess it was a form of brainwashing – making you smell the crushed flowers as I smothered you with kisses and hugs, telling you to remember how much I love you every time you smell lavender – but I don’t regret it, not when you still bring it up every now and then when you find a lavender bush!

You also remember some of my less stellar parenting moments… For all of the times I have let you down, or not done the right thing by you I am so sorry. I promise you I am trying to do the best I can, I am learning and growing every day just like you.

I love how complex you are, and you have been since the day you were born! One of my most vivid memories is of pushing you through the hospital corridors in one of those plastic tubs they put all new babies in. I had just given you a bath, and I looked down at you and there you were; this little bundle with black  spiky hair and dark blue eyes, peering up at me as if questioning my ability to pull this whole mothering caper off! Well, you’re still breathing, so I guess for the most part I’ve done okay.

You’ve walked alongside me through some of the darkest and most traumatic days of my life, and they have  revealed in you a tenderness that takes my breath away. I will never forget that morning when you awoke to me crying, you climbed up into my lap  as I explained that the baby in my tummy had died, you looked into my eyes with an understanding I would have found surprising in a grown man. The feel of your little hand in mine through that long day of hospitals and despair was an anchor that I may never be able to fully explain, but if I suddenly lost every memory I ever had, I am sure that the feel of your hand within mine would anchor me once more.

I love that you have a beautiful respect for life, all life. Especially those without a voice, those who cannot defend themselves, you are a brave defender. There is no cruelty in you, no viciousness or darkness that I see in so many other boys your age. You are an example of what real strength can look like. Kind, genuine, caring, brave and strong, don’t be afraid to be different from those around you, often they are just waiting for the right person to follow. That person is you, be the leader I know is inside of you. Anyone can pick up a weapon and bring death – but it takes a very special person to inspire people to live. It is all within you – keep letting it come out.

You are growing into a wonderful young man, I want you to know just how proud I am to be your mother. While there will be many things that will change over then next few years I want you to know that there are some things that will never change – no matter how much time goes past:

  • I will always be your mum
  • I will always try to kiss, hug, touch, pinch (in a teasing and loving way) and generally show affection at every opportunity
  • I will always see the best version of you
  • I will always try to help you
  • I will always want to talk with you
  • I will ALWAYS know best
  • I will always love you
  • I will always have other things to add to this list!

You are one of a kind. I am so glad that you are mine. Grow big and strong, follow your dreams and know that I believe in you, in everything you can be and will be.

I love you a million hippopotamus yawns.

Always and forever

Your Mum xxoo

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Day 19: A Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

Define Good…?

Do you mean ‘good’ like Mother Theresa good? Because I don’t know anyone with leprosy, and if I’m being really honest changing a nappy makes me nauseated , I just don’t know how I’d go with bits of people falling off.

Does that mean that I’m not good?

Or do you mean ‘good’ like Steve Jobs was good? Because while I really really love gizmos and gadgets and all things techno, I don’t have the slightest idea how they work and I don’t know my 1’s from my 0’s when it comes to binary! How am I supposed to measure up with a guy that has changed the face of technology for longer than I have been alive?

I really think you could have been a little clearer on this stipulation you’ve put out there for us! Good, what is good? How good? How often? Are we meant to be good all the time? If that’s what you had in mind, then only Jesus should expect a visit from you at Christmas. That’s kind of ironic since Christmas is also his birthday, and that would mean he’s going to get presents anyway – not that he doesn’t deserve them, he does because he’s good. That’s my point! Do you see my dilemma? I really love gifts at Christmas time but with all this confusion over your qualifications I’m more than a little concerned that I’ll be disappointed on Christmas morning.

Do you have a scale of ‘good-ness’? Are certain behaviours rewarded more than others? Are those times that I am good, cancelled out by those times that I’m not? Do my acts of kindness get erased by my moments of bitterness or selfishness? When I speak with anger and my words cause hurt, does that nullify the times that I seek to comfort or encourage? It’s all very confusing, and I’m a grown up, how are kids meant to understand what you want from them?

So I’m just going to go out on a limb here and come clean. I’m not good. Not really. I know what I think when I’m hurting or angry, I know how I’ve wished for others to be bought low just so I didn’t feel so bad. I have have lied, I have cheated (at pictionary) and I have stolen. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m pretty sure none of those things qualify me as being ‘good’. It’s much easier to sigh and accept the fact that I don’t measure up than it is to constantly try and convince you and myself that I am better than I probably am.

There it is, the facts. I am a human being. I make mistakes, I hurt people, I make bad decisions, I get grumpy for no reason and sometimes I get really bad road rage. So, if that means that I miss out on a visit from you this year or (baring a lobotomy or sudden divinity) any year, then I guess I will just have to accept it.

However.

Just in case you decide to be a wonderful and upstanding example of ‘good’, please find attached a list of things I would like for Christmas this year.

Anything from Pandora
Lots of stationery
Pretty red shoes
An air-conditioner
Anything sparkly and shiny
*You have always had wonderful taste in the past, so if you think you know better feel free to improvise 🙂

Sincerely (trying to be good)

Amelia xo

Day 15: A Letter to My Possible

Dear Possible,

I owe you an apology, if we were married, you could call the way I treat you emotional abuse! I ignore you, demean you, underestimate you and constantly see you as inferior to every one else’s Possible. Indeed I would be an awful spouse – the worst, if we were married, but we aren’t. So I ask myself, does this make my behavior better or worse?  If I feel guilty and a little bit disgusted with myself whilst viewing you as something separate from myself , then what do I feel when I acknowledge that you are actually as much a part of me as my hands, my eyes and my smile?

Honestly, pretty ashamed.

You are my possible, you are what is is my hands right now. No, not the laptop keyboard, but the spare change for a hungry man, the kind word for the frazzled check-out chick, the grace of forgiveness for a guilty child, the delicious dinner for a family going through an awful time. You are what I have the ability to do, the latent potential to make a positive impact in someone else’s moment, day, life or history. You are the glance that recognizes a need that I have the ability to meet! You are the part of me that shakes your head at my selfishness, that frowns upon my continual worry when there is always someone somewhere who is worse off. You are the part of me that knows my life is improved when I embrace you. You are my Possible.

So I have decided to change the way I look at you, because let’s face it, it’s only a coward who tries to justify their neglect and remain in ignorance of their own Possible, so  in the words of Marty McFly “Nobody calls me chicken!”. I am going to open my eyes, and my heart to your existence, because I just can’t pretend that I have nothing to offer anymore. Even if I were stripped bare of everything I owned, I still have my smile, my words and my actions to give. So I will do just that.

I will sieze the opportunities to unleash you my Possible upon this unsuspecting world. I won’t hold back a kindness, fail to encourage, or walk past a need. Well, at least I’ll try. I may be limited in what I can do in some places, but there are always opportunities to throw you in with a whole bunch of other peoples Possibles and do something truly amazing.

So I ask you, are you ready? Are you up for the job of pinching me in that soft spot under the arm if it looks like I might miss a chance to embrace you. I give you permission to kick me in the bum if I am becoming apathetic again, don’t let me anesthetize myself with distractions and the general ‘busyness’  of life. I never want to be too busy to make someone else’s, better or easier or just happier.

I can do that. That is always possible.

I wonder what would happen if everyone embraced their own Possible.

Looking forward to working with you.

Regards – Your Person.

**Thanks Enzo for letting me use one of your amazing photos – you help us all see what miracles lay on the other side of our Possible!

Sorry

I know, it’s been forever since I posted anything. To be perfectly honest it’s been forever since I’ve written anything!

The only way I can explain it is; that for a while there, all the joy and love got sucked out of even the idea of writing! There were a whole lot of factors involved, but I will make you a list of my feelings so you get an idea of where my head was at when it came to writing anything these last few months.

Overwhelmed, Doubting, Lost, Guilty, Undermined, Frustrated, Disappointed, Useless,

Bound, Failure, Past, Tired, SPENT!

Does that help? Don’t fret though, I neatly compartmentalised these darker feelings and they only remained attached to my writing. As to the rest of my life; it’s been going along nicely, just minus a few thousand words.

So who am I apologising to? Those of you who have ever landed here by accident, glanced at a post here and there. To you who have encouraged me with your comments, and have felt a connection to what I write. To my friends who ask me why I haven’t written anything lately. To my family who have been patient and protective of me. To myself.

When it comes to putting words on a page, it is an extension of my heart. I write what I feel, what I see, what I hope and dream. This writing isn’t malleable, it’s not domesticated or house trained! One day the words will paint a beautiful forest cathedral of the most violent pink blossom, the next they will lift the heart of a treasured friend.

I lost that, I forgot the love and excitement that blooms inside of me when I begin to write. The childlike wonder I feel when my imagination takes me off the path of what is known and unveils what is hidden, and magical and impossible!

I found it again! That vibrancy of capturing what only I can imagine, the courage to defeat my inner foe, the knowledge that who I am is exactly who I am meant to be.

So, I’m sorry I got lost there for a while. But I am back now, and I am bubbling with things to share.