To My Son, On Graduation Day

Dear Christopher,

I wish I was one of those moms that know exactly what to say and when to say it. You know, one of those moms who have a pocket full of wisdom and great advice at the drop of a hat, and can transform any event into a learning moment? But I'm not one of them, and here I sit, completely at a loss for words.

I remember sitting and holding you as a newborn, completely in awe of how perfect you were. I sat for hours rocking you and touching every finger, every toe, your perfectly shaped (and yet so tiny) ears and nose; rubbing that surprisingly blonde hair and wondering which ancestor in your family tree passed it on to you - and extremely pleased that they did. I wondered what you would be like in 2 years, 5 years, 18 years, 30 years. I knew that whoever you turned out to be would be amazing. And I was right. In fact, even then, as I conjured up every perfect thing you could be, I couldn't have imagined that you would be as great as you are today.

(This was right before your dad came in to tell me that you were, indeed, blonde!)

Of course, there were times that I wondered what I'd gotten myself into. You were a perfect newborn and toddler... and then you turned three. Luckily, your Grandma had warned me that it was 'the terrible twos, but the worser threes', and you proved her right. Remember telling Katy that "it's raining in the kitchen"? I woke up to the sink being plugged and water flowing all over the floor. And the very next morning you whispered, "Katy, it's SNOWING in the kitchen!", to which I found the brand new gallon of milk poured out in its entirety on the kitchen floor. I was so mad that I didn't dare touch you, so I sat you in a chair on the border of the living room and kitchen and told you that you'd have to sit there and watch me clean it up - because I wanted you to see how much work you'd created for me. I remember taking that very last swipe of the rag, and you exclaimed, "Very good, Tricia!" - and then I just laughed. You were so antsy in that chair, and you were as relieved as I was that I was finally finished. You're still antsy like that, but you're so good to suffer through the things you *have* to do, so you can get on with the things you WANT to do.

You've always been an amazing brother, and I've gotten compliments from people since you were little regarding how cute you were in school/daycare/primary - always peeking into Katy's class, just to check on her. When Trevor and Tessa were born, that brotherly instinct kicked in immediately, and I think that you were sometimes more cautious than I was with your siblings. I remember taking you and Katy to the chiropractor after we got into a car accident. You were about 4 1/2 and Katy was 2. After I was through, the doctor asked you and Katy if either of you wanted an adjustment. You took a giant step backwards, emphatically shaking your head NO. Katy giggled and climbed up onto the table, which completely horrified you, and you said to her, "I wouldn't do it, Katy.... he's gonna POP YOUR NECK OFF!" I've always admired your sometimes-over-protective-love for your siblings. You are such a great example to them!

Even as a teenager, you've very rarely given me any grief. I mean, yes, there have been plenty of times that you think you know more than I do, and times that you've pushed your limits just to see how far you could get. I remember the time when you were 15 (I think) when you snuck out of the house. My motherly instinct kicked in, and I felt the urge to go to your room and check on you before I went to bed, even though that wasn't my usual routine. There were all your pillows, stuffed under the blankets like you were sleeping peacefully, but I knew that trick. I'll never forget the look on your face when you saw me in the car driving up the street. I still say you're lucky I didn't get out of the car in my nightgown, right there in front of all your friends. But your face told me that I didn't need to - you were busted and immediately felt guilty, apologizing up and down. I remember you telling me, "The ONE time I decide to sneak out, and you catch me", and I simply replied, "and I always will". My hope is that even though you're an adult now, that I will always and forever have that motherly instinct regarding your well-being. I'm so glad that you're staying home for a while as you start college, because I get to have you under the same roof, if just for a little while longer. When you're ready to go out on your own, I promise to be brave, but I'm going to savor every moment with you until then.

Now, as an adult, you astound me. You have always loved to be your dad's helper, ever since you could walk, and so giving of your time to anyone that needs it. I don't think there's been even one day in the past year that I haven't heard you say to either me or your dad, "is there anything I can help you with?" - and it still catches me off guard sometimes. You are always so quick and willing to roll up your sleeves and start helping, even without asking, and I can't even tell you how grateful I am for that. I love how thoughtful and giving you are. 

As I write you this letter, I find myself all nostalgic and weepy. I can't even express how precious you are to me, or how intensely proud of you I am. There just aren't words. I'm excited to watch you walk across that stage today, all handsome and grown-up, and receive the diploma you've been working so hard for. I'm sure that you won't feel nervous at all, cause that's just not your style - but I'm feeling a little nervous already, just thinking about my baby boy crossing this milestone. If you do feel the nerves at all though, I'll tell you the same thing I've told myself this past year (knowing this moment was coming) - just take a deep breath, get up, and start walking - always continue to move forward. This is just the very next thing in a world of adventures that are waiting for you, my son; and I'm so excited for you to go out and explore this great big universe. You are brilliant and wise, and you are going to do great things!

Christopher, I don't know what triumphs and challenges await you in your lifetime (there will be many of both), but one thing I can tell you - without a doubt - is this: My love for you will never change. I've loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms. I will love you at your worst and I will love you at your best. I will love you when you sit right next to me, and I will love you if you're half a world away from me. I love you for who you were yesterday, who you are today, and for who you will become tomorrow. My love for you is eternal, it is unassuming, and it is completely unconditional.

I am amazed and humbled every day that God trusted me and loved me enough to be your mother. I love you!

                                                      Love Always,
                                                                           Mom