And just for thought...
Maybe you will remember all the things we do today,
vague memories of your mother with brownish-blonde hair strumming a guitar
in the dim light of your childhood bedroom, singing silly songs about your stinky diapers.
Perhaps, as a woman, you will recall the living room picnics we had every night
or how we would dance around to the oldies after your bath both in our jammies.
That's what I want to give you.
I see you smile, praying that I make an impression on what is really important.
Later on, when you are left with only a memory of me,
I want you to say that your mother knew what life was,
never anything more then enjoying the moment, every moment.
Maybe you will tell your kids about the show tunes in the car,
the Sunday morning coffee houses, the drawings on the walls.
Maybe you will have recollections of the way I curled up next to you as you fell asleep,
the way my eyes teared up every time your sweet voice called me Mommy
or the way my heart melted every time your two small arms would reach for me,
the way you gave me courage when you were my little champion.
I know I have never been the normal kind of mom
and I know that you really wouldn't want me any other way.
Maybe the things we do today will stick with us.
Perhaps you will find an old picture of us when you were little and you will smile,
realizing that we grew up together, more so every day.
I want to give you memories no one else has.
I hope you remember the times I would jump in the bathtub with all my clothes on
and how it made you giggle.
I hope you remember the way we would sing into brooms and dance with the vacuum.
Perhaps, as a woman, you know all the joy you brought me,
the moments of love I never want you to forget,
the moments of love I hope you always carry with you.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who has been in love with writing her entire life. I am full of quirks, anxieties, fears, joys, laughter. And all I have wanted to do was give the world a smile.