Dear Little One,
Someday, you might stumble upon this letter. Perhaps it will be shared online, or I might present it to you when you’re a parent yourself. You could even discover it next week, scribble a flamingo on it (your current obsession), and ask me to read it aloud.
Today, Mommy is feeling worn out. You’re at school, and I can’t help but feel a pang of longing for you. Do you miss me too?
I often wonder if you’ll remember this day. Will you recall the activities you engaged in? Did you forge a new friendship or share a laugh? Will the picture you created stay in your memory? I’ll certainly remember because I keep all your artwork safe.
I ponder whether you’ll recall that I was feeling exhausted. Will you remember if I was irritable, or if I snapped at you when you didn’t put your shoes on after I asked you nicely multiple times? I’ll remember those moments, wishing I could have handled them better.
I think about our visit to the pumpkin patch last weekend. Will you remember the joy we felt riding the Bumpy Cow Train? I hope you hold onto the fun we’ve always had together, as I do. I strive to fill our time with joyful memories, and I’ll cherish these experiences forever.
Will you remember how hard I worked? I wonder if you’ll think back to the times I was glued to my phone, responding to work emails or texts. I do this to give you the best life possible, but I hope I haven’t missed too much of your childhood while doing so.
Do you think you’ll remember when your Dad and I lived together? Or the day you and I moved out? I hope you’ll see that I became a happier person after that change, becoming a better version of myself for you. I’ll reflect on that choice regularly, hoping one day you’ll tell me it was the right decision for us.
I’ll never forget those sleepless nights when you were sick, listening to your breathing and checking your temperature while you slept. Those moments will stay etched in my heart forever.
I wonder if you’ll remember how much I loved you. Will you recall the feeling of that love? Because I will. It’s overwhelming, unforgettable, and fills my mind and heart every single day.
These thoughts weigh on me because I don’t recall my own childhood clearly. I can’t remember my mother, your Grandma Anne, struggling as a single mom or the sacrifices she made. But I know these stories because she shared them with me, just as I’m sharing with you.
If you ever ponder your past, I hope you’ll recall how deeply loved you were. And if you’re reading this in 2050, perhaps with your own little ones (and maybe even a DeLorean), I hope you’ll travel back to this day when you were three and I was thirty, loving you to the best of my ability. Please let me know that it was all worth it.
Tell me it meant something.