For the Future

Dear Son

,

When you came into this world, you brought a love into my heart that I had never before experienced, a mother’s love.  The first time with your little toddler hands, you turned my face to look at you and you said, “I love you” you taught me the meaning of true, unconditional love.  The time you were in 8^thgrade and we were crossing the street, you picked me up and twirled me, the times you held my hand, I knew I was loved. 

When you played sports in school, when you recovered from a broken hip, playing the saxophone at the half-time show, when you went off to college, I always believed in you, your biggest supporter and fan. With every milestone of life, education, a career, marriage, even though they were steps away from home, I cheered and celebrated your well-earned accomplishments.  You know I did not cry at your graduations, although I cried with out comfort at the last baseball games, high school and college…I loved being a baseball mom.

As the years have passed and you have grown older, what an amazing person you’ve become!  You are still an individual and unique as you have ever been, and I am honored to be part of your life.  You’re soon to be a father, but I have these letters to write, just in case I am not here for other moments of your life.  May you always know your worth and how incredibly precious you are.  As your mom, it is my privilege to share these important truths to you about yourself, as I have been the one to see you grow up, although I see from your office, others have recognized your leadership and hard work ethic.

Be true to yourself always.Continue to do the things thatmake you happy. Your contentment is what I wish, and it will come from following your dreams of love, family, friendship, and living a life that has meaning and purpose for you. As time goes by life has its ups and downs and is not always fair, as you already know, but you are strong and resilience will see you through.

Know that I love you and will always be there for you in spirit and have my special requests in to my Guardian Angel to watch over you. God loves you and will see you through hard times and get you to the other side of adversity and pain. No matter what, I’ve had your back and you mine. You are my son and always will be. I have a place for you as one of my hero’s, and there is nothing you have done to ever change that.

Love Always,

Mom

Riding The Rails

It recently came up on a Facebook page for the Northwest Side of Chicago,  the RR tracks in the neighborhood I grew up in.  We lived on a one-way street with a freight train track  at the end of the street. The tracks were raised about 3 stories above the houses and it was a grassy knoll that added charm to the neighborhood.  I have grown up loving the sound of a train and to this day appreciate  the slow, rumbling of the tracks.  Trains have significance in dreams, in literature, and  its synchronicity of life, people, along with its suspense of places unknown and the romance of adventure.

At birth we boarded the train that met our parents and I was glad that we traveled through life together. As time went by other people boarded the train, my sister, family, friends, and loved ones.  My grandparents first left, and then my parents stepped down from the train, leaving me to continue this journey on without them.  Others have stepped down leaving a vacuum, and others I scarcely noticed that their seat was vacated.

The ride has been full of joy, sorrow, expectations, hellos, good byes, and fare thee wells. There is the remaining mystery for everyone, as we do not know at which station we ourselves will 

step down.  That leaves us with a life long responsibility to live in the best way, love, forgive and offer the best of who we are.  When I hear that lonesome whistle blow and I step down, and leave my seat empty; it is a prayer that I will leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life. 

Travel on and have a joyful journey, this train is bound for glory!

 

When Your Father Dies - Borrowed

Your father, once at the center of your universe, is inescapably a part of you even after he’s gone.  When your father dies.  Let the phrase settle for a moment.

What words do you hear next? For anyone whose father has died, finishing the sentence is apt to be easier than reciting the alphabet.

"When your father dies" is the opening phrase of one of my favorite poems, "Shifting the Sun," and it came to mind recently after a colleague's father died, just before Father's Day.

It begins:   When your father dies, say the Irish 

You lose your umbrella against bad weather.

When your father dies, say the Russians

He takes your childhood with him.

When your father dies, it doesn't matter that other people's fathers have died, that fathers have been dying since human time was born. What matters in the moment of his death is that he was your father. Your one and only. Your loss is unique, profound, yours alone.

When your father dies, people say many things to you, much of it the same thing. Sorry for your loss. Condolences. May he rest in peace. You will not remember words. You will remember kindness.

When your father dies, if you weren't there with him, you will carry that knowledge forever like a permanent hole in your pocket. You will get used to it, but you'll always know it's there.

When your father dies, even if you were with him, you will think of all the things you meant to say, to ask, things you may have said and asked a million times but you'll want to say them just once more.

Thank you.      Sorry.            Why? What? When? Who exactly are you?

When your father dies, you will remember that time, maybe more than one, that he made you so mad.  When your father dies, you will worry about your mother, who, you are likely to learn, is more resilient than you gave her credit for. This assumes she's the one left behind, as mothers so often are.

And when your father's gone, you'll see your mother from a different angle. You'll see more clearly how your father helped her, hurt her, made her less and more than she would have been without him. You will see more clearly her power over him.

When your father dies, the small particulars of his life, the kind you barely noticed when he was alive, grow into revelations.

The smell of his aftershave. The style of his boxer shorts. How neatly he arranged his loose change on his bureau before he said his prayers at night.  When your father dies, even if he was grand, you realize how small he was, how human.

When your father dies, you will become more intrigued by the life he built from the childhood he was given.

When your father dies, you have to adjust your place in the world, in your family, your sense of who you are performing for. You wonder if you can. You can.

When your father dies, you discover how others — say, your brothers and sisters — saw him differently.

When your father dies, you start to know him better. "Oh," you think, a long time later, "now I get it."  When your father dies, you take to noticing how much you're like him. It's not all good, but it's how you keep him with you.

When your father dies, you wonder what he would be like if he'd lived longer, what he would think if he could see you now. You hope he would be proud.

When your father dies, you will grieve and then, one day you'll notice your grief has dried up. You may spend weeks with no conscious thought of the man who was once at the center of your universe. You will be relieved and your relief may feel like betrayal.

But every now and then, when the sky is a particular shade of blue, or you spot a man with a familiar build on the street, or you hear the chatter of a ballgame on the radio, you will feel a knot in your chest, and to no one in particular, you'll say, "Dad."

To Ashley Stone Ryan

To the person who falls in love with my son...Ashley Stone Ryan

I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be giving you this letter.

Maybe in a few decades on the day you marry my son. Or maybe it will be just a random day that feels right. Whenever it is that you get this letter, I hope that I will be alive and well enough to fully experience how happy I am to know you.

Right now it feels a little silly to be writing this letter. My son, my little toddler, is upstairs, tucked in a bed that seems giant compared to him, and it reminds me how tiny his body is. He’s lost in a sea of blankets that I lovingly wrapped around him, before I brushed his hair off his forehead, kissed him and came downstairs to write to you.

I’ve listened to enough stories to know that (God willing) my little boy is going to going to grow up faster than I am prepared for. His lanky feet will soon hang off the edge of that bed, and before I know it, he’ll sleep in a new bed, in a different home, away from me.

And somewhere along the way, he will find you. And everything will change.

Right now he chooses me. He chooses me to play catch with and to read books with. He likes my lunches better than the ones his school makes. He wants me to be the last one to kiss him goodnight.

But one day, he will choose you. He’ll want to spend his days off with you, go on adventures with you, cook for you.

Right now his eyes light up with joy when he sees me.  The look on his face when he first spots me in the school pick up line will never ever get old.

But one day, those eyes will sparkle for you. He’ll study your hands, memorize your face, and have pictures of you up in his office.  He'll take you to baseball games to see his favorite teams.

Right now I am his hero. He asks me for help. He asks me to make it stop raining. He snuggles with me when he is sick.  But one day, you will be his hero. 

Right now I am teaching him how to be kind.   I am teaching him how to respect others and be respected. How to listen, how to help, and how to ask for help when he needs it.

And one day, I hope he lavishes you with that respect and kindness.

Right now I get to plan birthday parties and make the holidays and milestones magical.

One day, you will remind him to call me on my birthday.

Right now, home is with me.  But one day, he will be at home wherever he is with you.

And the thing is, all of this is okay. It’s wonderful in fact.

It is my honor to be this little boy’s mother, to help guide him as he grows into the person that you will fall in love with. And it will be my honor to know you as well.

I hope that world is a better place when he does find you, and a statement like this seems totally unnecessary—but just in case, I want you to know that if you treat him well and make him happy, I will love you no matter your gender, race, ethnicity or religion, just like I will all of my children.

I promise to try to find a balance between being in your lives and being helpful without overstepping my boundaries. No pop-ins, I swear.  I promise to try not to give advice unless you ask.

And to you, the person who has fallen in love with my son, I promise to fall in love with you. Because the person that loves my son will understand what’s behind those sparkling eyes of his like I do. That person will think his jokes are adorable like I do and will laugh at his jokes the way that I do 

And how could I not love the person that loves all of that about my child?

So right now while I have him, before he is yours, I will cherish every moment, every kiss and every snuggle.

And one day, when you love him and he loves you, I will be so proud. Proud of the person he has become, proud of the person he has chosen to spend his days with, and proud, so proud, to be his mom.

Love Always,

Me Mom