I had just exited an abusive relationship. One that I would have panic attacks while diving on the highway sometimes when I was left with nothing but my thoughts, and memories. Men were the enemy, I thought I would never love another man again.
I was pregnant at the time, determined to try to bring that baby into the world and despite its gender, try to love it, though it was the product of a time in my life I would have rather forgotten.
I couldn’t even name him, but I didn’t know how much I needed him.
Then he was born, perfect, in every way… I just didn’t know it yet.
I couldn’t hold him, I couldn’t love him the way he needed me to. Sometimes I couldn’t even look at him. He reminded me of everything that hurt.
Slowly, he won my heart, and the hearts of everyone around him. His fat cheeks, infectious laugh and nickname “bubba”, were everything I didn’t know I was missing. He grew, and I grew with him… this child, who until the age of 4 was pretty non-verbal, then decided one day he was tired of being silent, continues to amaze. He carefully chooses every word that comes out of his mouth, making the room fall silent when he talks, because if he is taking, then it’s important.
He is my heart. He holds pain, with strength I admire and courage I crave. His compassion surpasses anything I’ve ever experienced. His sense of humor is witty, rich, and inspiring. He is my peacemaker, my rock.
I’m watching you grow into a man, and know who you are, far earlier than I did. You have an incredible awareness of you and those around you. I watch you try to improve yourself in ways some adults have yet to master. You have become my joy, peace, and advisor.
I wouldn’t trade you for anything bubba, happy birthday.