Each of my boys have a journal filled with letters I’ve written to them from the day they were born. I suppose it’s my solution to being hostile towards scrapbooking.
It’s also a way for me to record my most heartfelt thoughts toward each son, the realities of my struggles, and the prayers I pray for them.
I write when I can; I write when my thoughts are lucid. I write because I know that I will not always remember.
Someday, I hope to send each boy off with their own book of letters from me, so that they may know how greatly they were loved, how much they were worth the sacrifices, how often they were prayed for, and how many everyday moments were remembered.
I hope they will know their mother more one day. They will know that she’s a sinner, that she’s human, that she laughed more than she corrected, that she found her kids unique and worth being vulnerable with…even before they were actually listening.