Nine years. I don’t write here as much as I used to. I wish I was a real writer and could say all that I think about. But today, I want to write and say, nine years, wow. It’s yesterday, it’s forever ago. The day is burned in my memory and I can recreate it in a minute. I love that that day is so tied to the Masters, and hearing the trademarked CBS commercials and music, take me back there. They will always. You humor me by letting me re-tell you the story of your birth every spring. I know soon you’ll want me to stop, you’ll groan, but so far, you sigh and lean in and let me talk.
Recently, I’m seeing you grow and change in ways that are amazing. You are growing up and it is fun to watch and be a part of. You are so smart. You are so funny. There is nothing I like more than the sound of your laugh. I live to see you smile. I hope you understand some day why we are so hard on you. We know you will do great things and be amazing – we have the hardest job of getting you there. I love to see you figure out your sense of style, fall in love with a good book or new author. Make new friends.
I am still in awe of the boy that made me a momma and me and your dad a family. I know I always will be. I do miss that little guy, but you, you at nine, are so neat. The hugs you give, hearing you explaining something to your little brother all show me how you are growing up. Thanks for being our guy. Continue to grow and spread those wings. I will be here always to help you along the way.
Love, your momma