Between Bruises and Blooms

My sweet boy,

I don’t know if you’ll ever understand
how much of my heart
has always belonged to you.

You made me a mother
before I knew what motherhood really meant.
We learned together—
through sleepless nights,
sticky hands,
cartoons playing before sunrise,
and a thousand little moments
that no photograph could ever hold.

I’ve watched you grow
from the tiny boy who reached for my hand
to the young man
who reaches for his brother and sisters instead.

You have always loved
with your whole heart.

You don’t even realize
how extraordinary that is.

There are days
when the silence in this house
feels louder than anything.
I catch myself wondering
what joke you’d be telling,
what drawing you’d be working on,
or whether you’d be reminding me
that one of the girls stole your snack again.

I miss the ordinary things the most.

I wish life had been gentler with us.
I wish you hadn’t learned so young
that families can hurt,
that adults don’t always agree,
that love sometimes has to fight
to be seen.

If I could give you anything,
it wouldn’t be money
or perfect answers.

It would be certainty.

The certainty
that you have never been forgotten.

That every decision I make,
every meeting I attend,
every paper I sign,
every tear I cry,
has always carried your name somewhere inside it.

You have never been something
I needed to move on from.

You are someone
I will always move toward.

One day,
when you’re old enough
to understand the parts
I can’t explain yet,
I hope you’ll see
that I never stopped showing up.

Even when it looked different.

Even when it was harder than anyone knew.

No courtroom,
no distance,
no season of life
could ever make you less my son.

You were my first hello.

And no matter how many years pass,
you will always be
one of the greatest chapters
my heart has ever written.

Love always,

Mom