When I met my husband and he asked me to marry him 6 short months after meeting, I didn't think I could love anyone more.
Two months later we walked down the aisle together and said 'I Do' and began our lives together growing together, laughing and loving through the everyday mundane together, and I really didn't think I could love anyone more.
Fast forward to a tiny heartbeat filling a room as our eyes filled with tears, the tiny fluttering on the screen a miracle all on it's own - now I was SURE I couldn't love anyone more.
That tiny heartbeat developed into a rolling, kicking extension of my body and I had never loved my OWN body more - but then it was born, and I held my son in my arms and my heart burst because I had never, ever loved anyone more.
He grew and his mommy and daddy did too. There were good times and there were bad times. There were easy times and there were hard times (really, really hard times, if we are going to be honest). Now I sit and I look at my life, surrounded by my boys, and I understand why we are not given an infinite amount of time to love. Given an eternity my heart would not be able to withstand this extraordinary love that constantly grows.
I see my son develop daily into his very own person with quirks and attitude, likes and dislikes, that are unique only to him and my heart melts. Curled up on the couch with a stuffed cat tucked into his arm, a fuzzy vest that hangs to his knees his favorite piece of clothing, his hat turned inside out, and watching a YouTube video about kid hacks and inventions - I couldn't love a boy more.
I look back at the 10 years that I've spent with my husband and sit in awe at how far we have come. We have seen heartache together. We have seen the worst of each other. We have lost all humility and have fallen vulnerable at one another's feet more than once. And while there were times I wasn't sure I loved him like I did when we met, I realized over time that the love wasn't lost, but more the patience and the understanding of humanity and all that it brings to the table. The fight was worth it because a love like this is worth it. As we grow older together, raising this boy together that we couldn't love more, I realize too that I only love him more. His quirks. His books on tape. His obsession with Tesla and Jeopardy. His cheesy jokes, constant picking, and his desires in life - I couldn't love anyone more.
Everyday, it seems, I only love more.
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Sunday, April 08, 2018
I've reflected a lot on my life over the years. Yesterday I ran my fingers over bark, comparing the texture from one tree to the next, and I thought: life is not much different. We all weather it differently, some of us with tough exteriors, rough skin and callouses, while others appear gentle and smooth and less...worn. There's always more than what meets the eye, and what we hold inside is always more precious than what's visible. Always.
I'm sitting sideline, trying my best not to interfere too much, as I watch my son grow and develop into this person all his own. Quirks, humor, motivation, and annoyances that he did not get from me or his father - they are unique to him alone, and I love exploring these parts of him, probing deeper into his individualism. I am broken as a mother that wishes to keep this perfect human to myself for all of my life with the knowledge that he is quickly gaining independence that steps further and further away from his parents.
I will always love him and he will always know that I do. Perhaps this is the one thing he needs to know as he evolves: that he is loved, and cherished, and always has a place to call home. As he stands against the storms of life, his bark will form. I have no control over that texture, it is all his own, but I hope I can influence what he holds precious inside.