March 26, 2010

Tucking in Young Man

Dearest Young Man,

Last night I went into your room to kiss you goodnight. You had been asleep for a few hours, but I was at your Aunt L's house and missed tucking you into bed. You were laying on your back, breathing with your mouth open and one arm flung over your blanket which was draped across your chest. Your hair was sweaty and I wondered why kids always get sweaty when they sleep, even with the covers off. I pulled your blankets up to your chin so you would stay warm and then I just looked at you. I looked at the masterpiece that God had sent to me. I wondered how He ever thought that I could deserve you. How could I get such a special kid that was going to need to be brought up with extra care? I am selfish, immature, and clueless so much of the time that when I look at you, along with all the love I feel is also a whole heap of inadequacy.

I can't even put into words the depth to which I love you. I think you are one of the most perfect beings to ever exist along with your dad and your sister. You are amazing in every way and every single day you find new ways to amaze me. It's unfortunate that I still feel like a little girl so much of the time because you deserve a Mom who really understands how to be a parent. You'd think by now I might have stopped flailing like a drowning person but here I am, still flailing away.

I know I get mad at you sometimes. I say things I shouldn't in moments of anger and sometimes I am just mean. I know I get so frustrated with you so often. It's not fair because it's not really you that I feel angry and frustrated at. I feel this toward your autism. Every single day I am angry at the whole world and even at God that you have to learn to live with autism and that I have to learn how to manage the special needs that you will have. Every single day I feel alone and like there is no one in my life that really understands what I'm feeling. So I lash out. At you and at your dad, and the world really when I withdraw myself from it. I want to stop crying. I want to stop feeling sad and just marvel at the goodness and intelligence that you possess. I know that I am blessed to have you. I am so blessed to have you.

I swear I wouldn't trade you for anything, not even a "normal" kid. You are mine. I see it in your smile, your obstinance, and even your eyes just a little, even though they are mostly your Dad's eyes. You are mine. Someday, when the veil has lifted, you will be able to tell me why you chose me to be your Mom. I can't wait to hear it. You are so dang smart that I know you are destined for really great things here and in this life. So please know that even though it's going to be harder for you to be a kid than many other children, and even though not everyone you encounter in your life will understand you or even be kind to you, that I am always going to be your mother. And my love may not be perfect, but it is immense. I think it could fill an ocean. I will always be proud of you. I will always support you even though I am a coward and it's really hard for me to confront other people who may need confronting. I could never stop loving you and I promise to celebrate your every accomplishment, even the little ones. You are my son, my child, and one of the greatest loves of my life.
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