Day 54: I Have Loved You For A Thousand Years!

To My Dear Son,

I have been selfish and blinded. I have hurt the most precious being on this earth, my very flesh and blood, my baby, my angel, my bear.

I am so very sorry. And you have every right to be mad at Mommy. You have a right to have emotions, to feel emotions, to have pain, to express the pain, to experience that pain, and to above all share that pain with whomever you choose to share that pain with. I love you so much that I am crying with joy. I am washing the tears from my cheek.  And I am crying big tears of “I am sorry.”

This is the most important letter I have ever written. The most important words I have ever written. And Mommy has written thousands of pages of words. You are that important.

When I was little, I promised myself every night and every day, in the morning light and in the dark, how I would love my child with all my heart. How I would never cause him or her pain. How I would be there. How I would carry the pain.

I would die for you. Right now. I would die for you. I love you that much.

I am sorry I haven’t shown you lately how much I love you. I am sorry I have ignored you. I am sorry I haven’t been present. It is my fault. And I am heart-broken because of the choices I made. You are not to blame, one bit. You did nothing wrong. You are perfect.

If you could see me now, crying louder than our doggy howls, crying so hard, because I never want you to feel alone or unloved, unnoticed or forgotten, you would understand how much you mean to me.

You would know that you are not Forgotten. That you are loved beyond measure.

You are my beautiful, divine, and loving son. I am the luckiest mom on earth! You make me smile with delight. You tickle me inside with your jokes and puns. You are amazing. You are brilliant. You are the joy that fills my day and the reason I fall asleep proud. You are a bright star that brings the family an element of surprise, adventure, truth, and great passion.

Our family is complete because of YOU!

Your passion is so huge that it fills the whole of our house. Your creations, inventions, and experiments—as they explode in our bathrooms, across our kitchen, on the balcony, and all around the house—they announce to the world: I am brilliant! I am creative! I am GREAT!

Our family is whole because of you. Because of your brilliance and charm. Your directness. Your ability to see and feel at a deep, deep level. Your gift of knowing things beyond this world. Your gift of bringing a smile to our face, over and over. Your memory is fascinating. Your strong will and determination is amazing.

You will go far in life. You have so very much to offer the world.

And I am so very sorry that I have not been there for you. I am ashamed. I am saddened. I was wrong.

I’ve been lost in my own world and pain. I’ve been hiding from events in my life. I’ve been afraid. I haven’t been brave like you. I haven’t been courageous like you.

But you know what?

You have made me braver with your words today.

Know why?

Because I love you so much, that your very words pulled me out from where I was hiding, and motivated me to stop being selfish, and to see the beautiful gifts in my life. Gifts like you, and your smile, and your loving eyes—and your huge, huge heart!

I am so blessed!

Look at you. Look what God has giving Mommy! A beautiful, intelligent, healthy, loving, charming, courageous boy. Who could ask for more? Why have I been so blinded in my own worries and fears?

You are glorious beyond words.

So this is both my sorry letter to you, my loving son, and my thank you letter to God.

Thank you God for my boy. Thank you for his angel heart, for his angel hugs, and for his patience with his mom. I know how blessed I am. Please forgive me for not appreciating this marvel you have placed before me, for this gift you have trusted in my care, for this wise being at my side.

“Thank you!” I shout from the highest mountain. “Thank you for this greatest gift in the whole of the world. Thank you for my glorious boy. For my super, fabulous kid who makes my world marvelous.”

Today, my son, I honor your words and concerns.  I honor you. I honor all of you. All parts of you. Everything about you is absolutely perfect. There is nothing I would change, nothing I would alter.

I can’t wait until you get home; I’m counting the minutes. I will get on my knees and say: “I’m sorry.”

Then I will wrap my arms around you, and say: “I  love you farther than all the universes can reach. I have loved you for a thousand years. Darling, don’t be afraid. I will love you for a thousand more! I will love you forever and ever! I am here.”

I love you my dear wonderful boy,

Your Mommy

Day Thirty-Nine: Squirrel, Calvin and Bob

Click to see where image was found

Is there something wrong with me, if I get excited about looking up images of flattened squirrels?

I almost ran over a squirrel this morning. Upon seeing the little sport dash out in front of my van, I slammed on my brakes to save the critter’s life. Afterwards, I looked in my rearview mirror to make sure there was no one behind me. Nervous and preoccupied, from a near miss, I failed to make a complete stop at the stop sign, which caused a not-so-happy neighbor to honk at me.

After the honking incident, I was a bit perturbed, all the way to my sons’ school. I had wanted to stick my head out the window and shout: “I always make complete stops. But I was saving a squirrel and got nervous!”

Give me a break.

I was upset for a full five minutes about the stranger misjudging me. Upset that is, until, on the return trip home, my youngest, the only passenger still in the van, declared from the backseat, in that casual, got your number style: “Mom. You didn’t make a complete stop, again.”

Guess I’m still guilty of those California stops. Can I just blame the error on cultural upbringing?

Saving Squirrel from the grips of death is the highlight of my day thus far. That, and finally deciding to wipe the glob of toothpaste off the bathroom wall; the same minty-green glob I’d been staring down for a good two weeks. I guess I’m the only one in the family endowed with cleaning toothpaste super powers.

I did have an eventful morning. For that I give thanks. Before I was fully awake, I was serenaded by my youngest, when he screamed at the top of his little lungs: “My eye therapy treatments are a waste of your **** money!” He wrapped up his point with a grand slamming of the door.

Have I told you how I obsessively read every Calvin and Hobbs comic book that existed, when I was a young adult, and wished desperately for a brainy, precocious, and adventurous child like Calvin? Don’t’ tell me that wishes don’t come true!

I am chuckling through life, while assuming I missed some news breaking story, because four people accidentally ended up on my blog by using the search term: cheerleader sticks leg down garbage disposal. I stopped myself from Googling for details. Yet, now wondering, if you might.

I could use a good laugh. The Dean of the Education Department has yet to call back about my tuition reimbursement. It will be two weeks tomorrow. I am doing better with the whole not showing up to class thingamajig while still on the university roster. Although, last night, while in the videogame store, I did ask my husband to check my pulse (twice), as I was having heart palpitations.

I adore my husband. He is always looking after me. However, I must share that he is concerned about this Everyday Asperger’s blog. What’s he concerned about? Well, supposedly, I’ve shared way too much about him. (Pausing a moment here, because I still find this so very funny. I’m not thinking, I need to explain why.)

In fact, in scanning through the some 60 pages I’ve scribed, one could infer that my husband Bob was a science major, is a father, was born sometime in February, is turning 50, snores, can count (pulse taking), and acts like Spock. Tons of information, right?

Of course, in knowing he is married to me, you can definitely infer Bob (if that is in truth his real name) has a very high tolerance level! That or he’s on some heavy medication. Happy Birthday sometime this month, Bob!

If I’m not posting anything tomorrow, you can assume I’m on restriction.