Dear Little One,
Someday, you may stumble upon this letter. Perhaps you’ll find it online, or I might hand it to you when you have your own little ones. Maybe you’ll discover it next week and doodle a colorful flamingo on it (you are really into flamingos these days) and ask me to read it to you.
Today, Mommy is feeling worn out. You’re at school, and I can’t help but miss you deeply. I can’t help but wonder if you miss me too.
I often think about what you’ll remember from this day. Will you recall what you did? Did you make a new friend or share a laugh? Will the picture you drew stick in your mind? I know I will remember because I keep all of them safe.
I’m curious if you’ll recall that Mommy was a bit tired today. Perhaps I was a little snappy or lost my patience when I asked you to put on your shoes for the 57th time — nicely. I’ll remember, wishing I could have handled it better.
I think back to our recent trip to the pumpkin patch. Will you remember all the fun we had on the Bumpy Cow Train? Will you cherish those moments, just like I do? I try to fill our time with as many wonderful memories as possible because they mean so much to me.
I ponder whether you’ll remember how hard I worked. I wonder if those moments spent on my phone, answering emails or work texts, will stick with you. I remember, as I strive to give you the best life I can. I hope that amidst all that work, I’m not missing precious moments with you.
I reflect on whether you’ll remember when Mommy and Daddy lived together. Will you recall when we moved apart? I hope you remember that Mommy became happier afterward, a better version of herself, for you. I’ll wrestle with that decision daily until you tell me it was what we needed, and that you understand.
I wonder if you’ll recall the nights when you were sick, and I stayed up, quietly listening to your breathing, checking your temperature without waking you. I’ll carry those memories forever.
I hope you’ll always remember how loved you were. I wonder if you’ll feel that love still. I will, and it’s a love that fills my heart and mind every moment of every day.
I question these memories because my own childhood feels distant. I don’t recall the struggles your Grandma, my mom, faced as a single parent. I don’t remember her exhaustion, her stress, or how hard she worked to provide for me. But I know these things because she has shared them. Just as I’m sharing with you.
If you ever wonder what life was like back in these days, I hope you carry with you the feeling of being deeply loved. And if you find this in 2050, with your own little ones (maybe even in a DeLorean), come back to this moment. Remember how you were three and I was thirty, doing my best to love you. And please remind me that it all meant something. Tell me it mattered.
For more insights on family building and home insemination, check out this excellent resource here or read about related topics at our blog Home Insemination Kit and Intracervical Insemination.
Summary
This heartfelt letter expresses a mother’s reflections on her experiences with her child, contemplating what memories will endure and how her love and efforts will be remembered. It also touches on her own childhood memories and hopes for the future.