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Category Archives: Letters To My Son

Father’s Day 2016

Dear Son,

Your Daddy loves you more
than mountains love spring rain.
You pull his world around
like the moon pulls the tide.
And when your tears flow
he feels your anger and your pain.
When you ask to get on his shoulders
he never refuses giving the ride.

Daddy will be your rock when life
throws you this way and that.
He’ll teach you what’s what:
like how to build, how to fix,
how to fish and how to hunt.
He’ll show by example how to be a man.
And you can be sure, if you’ve earned it,
you’ll also get your licks.

Your Daddy loves you the whole world
and then some.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on June 16, 2016 in Letters To My Son, Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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You Are More Than Enough

Dear Hunter,

As Mother’s Day approaches, I want you to know that every day is mother’s day for me because I am blessed that you are in my life.

You fill my life so much that I could write 24/7 about it and still never fill a book. I just wanted you to know that, sweet boy.

I love you,

Love,

Mom

 
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Posted by on May 7, 2015 in Letters To My Son

 

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Valentine’s: Just Another Day Around Here

Dear Hunter,

It seems like just yesterday it was New Year’s and a few days ago was Christmas.  But we are approaching Valentine’s day with the speed of light.  You, my dear son, are mine and Dad’s Valentine.  Every day with you is filled with smiles and love and fun and I love it!

As you get older, you’ll get caught up in all the little Valentine’s giving and receiving at school (If they still do that, I don’t know). And you will learn all about the commercialism of this holiday and many others.  But Dad and I will balance that out for you because around here we say, “Every day is Valentine’s Day.”  We don’t withhold our love and caring and then try to make up for it on one day of the year with ‘stuff.’

We share our love for each other (and now, for you, too) every day. We show each other kindness, consideration and passion every day. Some days its more than others.  And some days it might be hard to see altogether. That’s just the ebb and flow of a relationship, son. The important point here is that we intentionally create our relationship and love and friendship on a daily basis.

Valentine’s day is nice and we celebrate it, but it’s special for us because it reminds us that we make our relationship work the rest of the 364 days of the year. And that is pretty darn sweet.

I love you, son.

Love,
Mommy

 
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Posted by on February 12, 2015 in Lessons Learned, Letters To My Son

 

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Running Again

Dear Hunter,

You are heavy. I pushed you in the jogging stroller this morning and discovered you have grown and pushing you on our road is good aerobic exercise for me. Just the kind of exercise to help me get ready for a big race this summer.  So, thank you.

I know that as you get older, you will discover sports and kinds of exercise that you love, that you excel at, and feel passionate about. I am excited to see what you choose, what you try and watch you develop into that athlete.  Just so you know, and Dad and I will tell you this often, your biggest competitor will be and should be YOU.  Improve because you WANT to.  Work hard because YOU want to be better.  When you keep your eyes on your own ability, improvement and performance you naturally enhance any team you are on.

Sure, there will be people you want to beat or be better than.  Look at those as inspiration for your own talent, a goal to strive for…yet all in the name of self-improvement.

Whatever you do, know that dad and I will be available to help you, advise you if you want, and there to cheer you on in everything.

I love you, son.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2015 in Letters To My Son

 

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Happy Halloween Anniversary

Dear Hunter,

I didn’t have time to write this before Halloween…what, with the never ending laundry, dishes, diaper-changing, cooking, nursing routine around here… I am surprised anything else ever gets done at all. And, when I search my heart, I am o.k. with that.

But what I wanted to tell you on Halloween was a little story about dad and I.  You see, six years ago on Halloween we went on a date. We had met for the first time a couple weeks earlier and set up a real date for Halloween.  I guess you could say it was an enchanted evening…

After primping and preening and trying to figure out how women wear lipstick with out it smearing on their teeth and ultimately opting for just some lip gloss, I met your dad in Seattle.  We stepped into an empty elevator and as it lifted us up the outside of the building, giving a great view of the city lights, your dad kissed me for the first time. And I think we were lost in that moment …stretching it … letting time move around us. And when the elevator stopped, we stepped into a whole new world…. a world we began building for ourselves.

The evening moved along in sweet fashion. We had a lovely dinner and took a cab to a little joint at the edge of Belltown in Seattle where we were the only customers.  All the ghosts and goblins had gone on their way, apparently to cause mayhem down the street. We shared a bottle of wine and chatted for a couple hours, at least.  And then all hell started breaking loose. The Halloween festivities got crazy that night in Seattle.  People really did wreak havoc in the city. Cabs were a hot commodity and eventually our server drove us back to the starting point of the evening in her own car.

When the date was over, and we were set to go our separate ways, your dad got real serious. And it started to rain, which is normal for Seattle. He looked at me with rain drops on his glasses and said, “I want to do what it takes to make this work.”  In that moment hundreds of thoughts raced through my head and they went a little like this: What the???? Huh??? Uh. Too soon.  Too serious. Is he for real? What do I say to that? Um, ok. What the ????  But what came out of my mouth was, “So, do I.” And so, son, we did.  And every day we continue to do what it takes to make “this”… this relationship we have… work.

So, there you have it… how Halloween got to be our anniversary.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on November 4, 2014 in Letters To My Son, New Adventures

 

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Hand Hand Hand

Dear Hunter,

Your vocabulary and pronunciation continue to expand so rapidly that I have a hard time keeping up with all the new words you know and use, especially since the pronunciation for many of them isn’t quite what it will be in a few months.

One word I know is “Hand.” It comes out as “hanh.” But when your little fingers reach out for mine, I know exactly what you want. You want to take me some place, show me something you find fascinating or you want me to take the good china out of the cabinet so you can play with it. I know these days, when you want me with you, won’t last forever so I do my best to let go of the laundry folding, dish washing and electronic distractions, take your hand and follow your lead.

You have shown me rocks I never would have seen without your keen eye. You pull me out of grown-up-ness and back to little-hood with peek a boo and toy tractors. I play in the dirt more with you than I ever did when I was a child. We walk down the gravel road to see the neighbor’s horses. We blow bubbles. We chalk the side walk – and the fence and the doors and the house (dad didn’t like that much, but he got over it when the rain came and washed it all off).

Thank you for showing me the world through your eyes. Thank you for taking my hand. And just so you know, it will always be there for you.

Love,
Mom

 

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Brave Twirl

Dear Hunter,

Every day you inspire me to be brave. With each new discovery you make, I first take a deep breath and then, depending on what you are doing, I take a step forward or backward. I come toward you to share in your discovery or be closer if I need to pick you up when you fall.  I move away to give you a sense of autonomy and mastery over your world and body.

You recently learned how much fun it is to twirl in circles, get dizzy and fall down. And my first instinct is to tell you to be careful, that you are going to fall.  But my brave self tells me that you have to learn how to fall, how to crash in to things and learn how to get up even when it hurts. So, I laugh with you as you twirl, giggling all the way to the floor. Sometimes the twirl ends with tears and a bruise or two. I say, “Yep, that hurt, buddy. Do you want my help?” Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t. You get more sure-footed with every twirl, though. And I get braver.

I hope you never forget how much fun it is to twirl, my dear boy. You’ve reminded me what a joy it is to play and get dizzy and silly and giggle, falling down.

I love you,

Mom

 

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