Save Jace

Dear Jace,

You are five years old today. When God blessed your dad and I with you, He blessed us REAL good. I cannot think of a time since your birth that you have not been a joy to our hearts and a blessing to our lives. I cannot believe how fast you are growing and how much you are changing. It seems like only yesterday I was holding you in my arms, and now you are my little man.

Every milestone of yours has been a personal victory for me. Your first smile, your first word, your first step…I am just amazed and once again overwhelmed at what a little miracle you are. This year brought so many “firsts.” This year brought your first school experience, Pre-school. I prepared you as much as I could for that first day. You took to it, like you do all things, easily. There were no tears on the first day, no clinging, holding onto my legs, you were excited and thrilled at the idea of going to “big boy school.”

Sometimes I watch, still, and I can’t believe how much you have grown. You are so independent and challenge yourself as much as I challenge you.

So Jace, your existence in my life is a blessing I cherish every day. You are so different from anything I ever imagined. While dad and I chat back and forth on long drives, you stare out the window silently, occasionally piping up with something, always surprising me that you are actually listening. While dad and I strive to keep our environment neat and clutter-free, you have yet to discover that your belongings belong in your room—not scattered haphazardly across the house. And yes, your clothes are perpetually dirty, you like to roughhouse, you break things, and I noticed the other day that the walls in your room are scuffed from hot wheels being dragged across them. You are defiant, stubborn and willful. You try my patience at every turn. You look me in the eye and lie to me with a completely straight face. And yet, despite all of it, when you take my face in your hands, look at me with your big brown eyes and say, “Mama, you’re beautiful,” I forgive you for all of it.

We live our lives in phases. When one ends another begins. This year marked the end of your treatment, the removal of your medi-port and the beginning of your “I’m not sick anymore, mommy” life. So started all things little boy that we had waited so long for: TBall and water slides, bicycles and big jeeps, rock throwing and bug catching, planting seeds and building projects out of wood, writing and reading. Every single time you smile at me from your home plate slide, I think of everything you have been through and everything you have overcome.

I should be writing that you are young and life has yet to take its toll on you, that you will be thrown disappointments and loneliness and struggles and pain in your path. But you are strong and you have gone through more in your five years dealing with pain and struggles than some of us have in our lives. I should be teaching you to press on, to stay strong and keep your head high. But it almost seems silly, since you bug, have taught ME those things.

You are bright and smart and talented and amazing. You lovingly point out my flaws, and I cannot help but see that every part of you makes me a better person. You are sensitive and emotional. Though it gets a little testy sometimes, I realize that that characteristic will last you a lifetime. You are intuitive and curious. Even if you know the answer sometimes, you ask the question again just to make sure. Every now and then, I answer you wrong, just to see if you are paying attention and sure enough, you correct me.

When you say “I love you,” I know that it doesn’t matter how the rest of the world feels about me because I have you. When you tell me that I’m a good mom, all my past mistakes seem to be worthwhile if the course of them got me to you.

When you ask me, “Mommy, why is your name mommy?” If you only knew that you have given me everything I ever wanted. How out of all my dreams, out of all the make-believe kids I could have created in my imagination, I cannot believe God gave me such a beautiful boy, beautiful on the outside with a beautiful soul to match.

I know your little brother is tough competition for my attention. But just know you are who made me mom, you are my firstborn and my miracle. Nothing will ever replace that.

I never imagined that motherhood was my goal, was my calling. I knew that I wanted children. What I was not expecting was just how much you would fill up my heart, fill up my existence, and fill up my world with such bright happiness that I literally close my eyes and try to breathe you in every chance I get.

My favorite time of day is bed time, when I tuck you in and hold you close. We talk about our day and talk about your exciting adventures waiting for you when you wake up. I kiss your forehead, smell your hair, and we talk until you are safely in your sleepy peace. I cherish these moments because I know they are fleeting and one day you will no longer crave the tranquility of your mothers embrace. But for now, I will wrap you up every chance you ask and hold onto those tender moments for as long as possible.

Happy 5th Birthday, Bug.
I love you more than you know.
Mommy.

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