to sullivan on his 11th birthday

Oh the balm of my heart,

Today you are 11 years in this painful world. You are such a gift of gentleness and light to me, to our family, and to this world. It feels like the deepest honor to be your mother.

I usually write my birthday letters the day before the birthday as my way of marking the labor. I couldn’t do it last night though. I gathered your pictures and noticed such a drastic drop in eye sparkle from years prior and wept for hours. Sullivan, I feel like I’ve lost you this year.

The only reason I can move on from that statement is because I have so much hope for the future. Not every year will be this intense. Not every year will bring me to my knees like this one did. I do seek you, I reach for you many times a day, and I try my hardest to convey how irreplaceable you are, but I’m also fighting to be well myself and it’s been a hell of a flight. Dear boy, I am fighting to find you again. I’m fighting so hard.

I will never forget 3 weeks after I left, I was singing at the top of my voice in the car and I glanced over and you were starring at me with the biggest smile on your face. A smile I couldn’t even imagine ever seeing on your face before when everything was dark and hard. You need me to be well. You feel how not right things are in the world. You feel it deeply like I do. You are the reason I have not gotten down on the ground and given up my spirit. You are the reason I got brave and decided to not live my life as a shell of a person that you curled next to in bed to get time with me. I see you watching me open and light up and I know right now this is enough. Every day I’m getting stronger and I imagine this year we have many, many, many days of enjoying the fruits of this impossible work.

On to you and what you’re like at this beautiful age of 11.

You still love all animals. You asked me recently what was the job that made the most money. I told you probably a hedge fund manager (I literally don’t even know if this is correct). You then told me emphatically.

“Well I’m going to go to school for that, work for 10 years, save up, and then take care of animals for the rest of my life.”

You continue your obsession with dragons, you draw them and talk about them constantly. I will look back on this phase fondly.

You have a few sweet friends at your new school. One girl in particular. You get teased by your siblings that she’s your girlfriend but you so gently say, “Boys and girls can be friends. They can be best friends!”

You love fishing and do it ANY chance you get. You almost always catch something.

You got to go to camp and flourished. I received a simple note from you that read, “Camp is awesome. Everyone loves me!” Oh my heart.

I think one of my most precious memories of you was watching you curl into the sand to watch the moon rise, happy as a clam to be out in nature and quiet and peaceful.

You, precious one, are going to be a mighty man. I am so proud of you. I love you so deeply and I am looking forward to a lifetime of loving you. Us deep feelers have to stick together!

Keep being your precious self, it’s enough.

Your mama

to barlcay on his 13th birthday

My Barclay,

Today you are 13 years old. Who in the world let me have a baby 13 years ago?! I had no clue what I was doing, and yet here we are alive and mostly well. We both have grown quite a lot.

Oh Barclay, you said something the other day that has resonated in me constantly. I had asked you to behave and said, “ You know I’m having a hard day today, why are you acting like this?” To which you said, “Mom you’ve had a hard day ever since I can remember.”

It is true, my love, I have consistently had hard days for more days of your life than not. I will not apologize though. No, this work I’ve been doing, this not giving up, will pay off one day. I truly believe that dealing with trauma instead of shutting down and not, will be a gift to you. I know it has not been easy for you to have a mama like me, and yet I truly believe that you will be a great, compassionate, empathetic man because of it. And my love, I believe we have many, many fun, light, carefree days ahead of us.

The thing I’ve been fighting for all of your life, came true this year. When it became clear that I would not be able to stay alive in the circumstances at home (I’m speaking of suicide not murder), when I finally saw the distain and rejection clearly, I removed myself from the home I thought we would all grow together in. It was so hard. When I told you, you said, (exhale) “I’ve been waiting my whole life.” and just like that we both felt relieved. I only get you 1/2 the time but I am able to be present and allllllll the suicidal feelings have gone away. You don’t like that I cry a lot, but you do like that the tension in the home is mostly gone. I really struggle with wanting to tell you all the things and make sure you know that I didn’t have a choice. But someone very wise told me to let the truth unfold over the years and that one day (maybe when you are 20, maybe when you are 40), that the truth will be evident.

Moving on to the wonderful things.

You got accepted on the second day of school to a local, free charter school. I was SO relieved that you didn’t have to go to the local public middle school (my brothers went there and I’m still scarred). At your new school you play outside all the time. PLAY. It’s so refreshing. Yes there’s a shocking amount of middle school stuff you deal with but I’m just so thankful you still play. You have lots of friends and are on your second girlfriend of the year (whatever that means!). You love school and can’t wait to go. Even this last snow week you were SO sad to miss your friends. You ran cross country, played flag football, and are now doing frisbee golf. You’re so naturally athletic. I loved cheering for you on the sidelines. At first you were embarrassed at how loud I was and by the end you told me all your friends loved it and you flashed me the biggest smile from the field.

You are very generous and hard working. You mowed a lot of grass this summer and saved up money. One of the most tender moments of the year was when I didn’t have any money to buy pumpkins to carve, and you paid for them out of your work money.

You know, my whole life, no matter what stage you were in, people have commented…”Just you wait. It gets so much worse.” or “At least you don’t have a teenager.” I was expecting this stage to be hell. But another wise mother told me once, “It does not have to be that way. That does not have to be your story. Having teenagers is so fun. “ What a blessing that was. I know we aren’t in the thick of it yet, I know that, but I have to say on your 13th birthday that I adore this stage. I like sleeping all night too. Ha! Speaking of that, I NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS thought you would sleep in. But you do! And we are all so grateful!

You are the best kid and yet sometimes we have the most intense fights. Words are said that are piercing and hurtful. But I have to say, even in the worst times, I know that deep down at your core, you feel safe and held…that is everything.

A few more favorite moments this year:

Watching you skip around and trick or treat. Made my heart skip a beat.

Biking the Virginia Creeper Trail in the freezing cold with you. We bonded over what a bad idea it was! Ha!

Watching you (through pictures) at Camp Rockmont for your 4th summer. We barely made it happen but it was so, so, so worth all the sacrifices. You only have so many summers of childhood. You really want to work there when you’re older and it makes me so so happy.

Listening to you helping Lucy read in the back seat on the way to school.

Going to Fawn Lake and jumping in this fall, just us two.

Watching you climb the old oak tree in my childhood neighborhood.

My dear boy, I’m here for the ride. I’m here for the ups and downs that will inevitably come this next year. I searched for days till I found you the perfect compass to give you this evening. I’m writing you a letter that lets you know that I will be your north. You can always depend that I will love you no matter what. I will always open my arms to you, no matter what. I will always believe in you.

You are a gift to me and so many who know you. Keep your playful spirit and keep being kind.

Your mama.

to lucy miller on her 8th birthday

My darling baby girl,

Oh how my heart aches thinking about the past year. It was yet another hard year in your short life. I was severely depressed for half of it and only had you 50% of the time for the other half. Part of me wants to stay in this grief, and yet I can’t. There were too many beautiful moments to just write things off as a crap year.

You my darling are a light. You bring joy to everyone who knows you. When I drop you off at school you methodically go around hugging every single teacher on your way in. It’s just how you are.

I homeschooled you the first half of the year and we had a blast (although looking back maybe studying the Titanic and Shackleton’s expedition in depth was a bit heavy for a first grader). We did have a really hard time with reading. No matter what I tried you struggled so much. Turns out you are most likely dyslexic or on the spectrum of dyslexia. Because of this we decided to hold you back a year and you repeated first grade. You didn’t let it get you down and walked into school this year with confidence and such a good attitude. You have tons of friends (and boyfriends). Your teacher told me in all her years of teaching she’s never had a harder worker than you. She also said when she feels stressed she usually feels your little fingers on her back. You sense when she needs a little massage. This is so dear! To help with reading you started working with Miss Marla and ya’ll are two peas in a pod! You adore her and she adores you and every time I pick you up, you’re having the best time. Because of Miss Marla you are starting to be able to read words more and more. I’m so proud of you never giving up.

Some of my favorite memories with you this year are (in no particular order):

Playing on the beach by moonlight.

Flying to Colorado to help Aunt Georgia with her two babies. You were a very serious and tender little mama.

Becoming roommates this summer. We snuggle and giggle before bed and it is THE BEST.

Watching you dance everywhere. In nature, in my kitchen, in your recital. You were for sure the most graceful and technical dancer in your group. I wept watching you.

Riding 17 miles of the Virginia Creeper Trail together. It was so hard for your little legs but you did it.

Dancing at Merlefest with you in our twirly skirts.

A dozen dips in the river.

Watching the stars come out one night on the parkway-all snuggled in a blanket.

Your heart is so beautiful, Lucy Miller. You are so caring for those around you who are not always included. You love babies and love stories and you have a fire inside of you that will never die. I swear I can barely stand it sometimes, I can’t believe you are my baby.

You are one tough cookie and deal with (sigh-BROTHERS) on the daily. I am praying that they are kinder to you this year and if not I’ll continue taking away all their privileges.

You recently lost your two front teeth and the cuteness level is OUT OF CONTROL.

I’m fighting the guilt I feel for not being able to stay in the home I thought you would grow up in full time. Your daddy loves you very much, but I could never forgive myself for showing you that it is ok to die inside, to accept lies, to be put down and abandoned by your partner. I want so much more for you. I want you to search and find someone that treasures you, chooses you, pursues you, cares for you even in your hardest times.

Also, I am 100% sure that you prefer me like this, alive and present 50% of the time vs dead to the world 100% of the time.

I hope one day you’ll understand the love that brought me here.

In July I combined all your birthday letters into a file so that you could have them after I died. The years stretching ahead of me seemed impossible and I never once thought I would make it to writing your 8th birthday letter. Here I am, and oh how my heart is filled with the hope that I will write many, many more.

You are a gift my girl. I love you endlessly.

Mama