I know nothing about you, whether you've passed from this world after birthing a baby you grew inside yourself, or made the excruciating choice to allow others to care for him. If you're alive, and you chose this path for your baby, I'm sure you have hopes for him - high hopes for his new life with a mommy & daddy who can place fresh meals in front of him and keep the mosquitoes at bay.
I think of you often, and only in part because of the gift that I hope to receive from you someday soon. I think of you because I want to know every detail of your life, of the moments that brought us to this point, where our lives begin to anonymously intersect for eternity. I want to know your favorite memory, the sound of your voice singing lullabies, the comfort food that you ate from your grandma's kitchen. I want to see your eyes smile.
I want to promise you that I'll always love him, and that I'll tell him how much you loved him too.
Someday we'll bring him back to visit the land of his mother, and I believe he'll feel the familiar comfort of your breath in the smell of the breeze.
You know, he'll so badly wish he could know you, even if he doesn't want to talk about it. I won't make him, but I'll listen if the words escape. I'll tell him how I prayed for you, how I loved you in a way I can't express with words.
When he's older, I'll try to explain the complicated things. How though I love him as sure as I breathe, I really wish for him that he never had to leave you. How I will always be grateful for his sweet voice calling me "Mommy," but how I know it comes at a cost for you and for him. How my gratefulness will always be mixed with a tinge of guilt (no....regret or wistfulness, I'm not sure what the right word is here) for being the one that held him tight on the airplane as it climbs towards the sun that shines down on you.
I'll explain so that he knows I that I know. Not that I understand, because I never will, completely. But that I know these things are not easy to fathom. I want him to know he never has to have it figured out for my sake.
He's going to grow up, our little boy. He's going to surpass those expectations you treasure in your heart right now. And when I'm cheering him on, I'll give him an extra pat on the back from you. But someday, his heart will break, and mine will too. And as the tears fall down my face, I'll cry for you too. I'll cry the tears you would cry and I'll wonder if your mother's heart would know just the right thing to say.
Some days I will think of you with longing, and wish I could channel the instincts that took root as you felt him kicking around inside you. Other days I know my fragile heart will fear you, and the prominent place you will hold in my son's dreams. But every day I will remember you, and every day I will thank you.