I've been intending to write to you since the first time I felt you kick, before you were even born. When you were just "a twinkle in my eye", as Grandma would say. And now you're five. Today was your last day of PreK. Next year you'll be in Kindergarten. KINDERGARTEN. Where has the time gone?
Maybe I've been putting off writing because it's hard to find words to express just how much I love you. From the day your dad and I learned we were pregnant with you, I knew I would love you...I just didn't realize how much and how deeply. The first time I held you in my arms I knew there would be nothing you could ever do to make me love you any more, or any less.
I'll never forget the first time I saw you. You were perfect. Perfectly you in every way. And we were perfect for each other. A match ordained by God. You were almost one-year-old before I could bare spending a night apart from you. Even though there was never a doubt in my mind that your daddy would take excellent care of you while I was away, I worried...it's what mom's do.
Reflecting on these last five years, I recall each milestone, each chapter sweeter than the last. When you turned three months old, after we made it through my nursing woes, sleepless nights and reflux, I was confident three months was my favorite stage (as if I'd experienced so many stages)...then, when you turned six months, "this HAS to be the best age"...and yet again at 9 months, 1 year, and so on, and so on. The pattern continues to this day. And I've concluded very simply that I will love every stage. Watching you grow and learn is a delight and brings me great joy.
Thank you for being my partner in adventure and for reminding me daily to slow down and enjoy the simple things in life. I am a better person because of you, and my hope and prayer is that you will never doubt my love, and know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I am proud of you and know God created you for greatness. You bless my socks off, Henry Ward Shaw.