Friday, December 6, 2013

Why I Write

This will probably be an overly emotional and scatter brained post. But it's something I really want to write down. It's not easy to talk about, but it's important to me. So please, bear with me. 

Writing here on this blog has become really important to me since Wilson has been born. I don't really care too much about who reads it or if I have a "popular" blog. Because I'm not writing this for anyone except myself and my son. 

I'm writing because I want my son to have a record of me. What I thought, felt, how I loved him, my struggles and my happiness. I want my son to have a picture of who I am as his mother and as a person. Because I know first hand how priceless and important that is. 

Hopefully, I will be able to tell Wilson all of the stories of when he was little. Hopefully when he is grown and has children of his own, He can call me and I can give him advice. Hopefully, I can tell him how much I love him every single day. 

But I know from the loss of my own mother, that I may not always be here. I probably will have a long, happy life with my son, but it is far from guaranteed. So I write from that fear. I write because it is my absolute greatest fear that I will leave my son with no record of myself as a woman, wife, and mother.  

My mother died when I was 6. As a 6 year old, I barely recognized that my mom was anything else except my mother. She took care of me, played with me, taught me. I wasn't capable of understanding her many other roles. Hell, I barely understood her role as a mother. She just was there. I didn't know or appreciate the things she did for me. 

And it sucks when you're 6 and your mom dies. But as a 6 year old, you don't really understand what that means. The worst part of losing your mom at 6 is that the grief gets worse as time passes, nt better. As I got older, I started to understand more and more of what I lost. As a young teen, I realized I lost my biggest female role model. As a teenager, I realized I lost a friend and confidant. When I got married, I realized I lost what marriage looked like for my parents. When I became an adult, I realized I lost a complex, unique, and flawed person. I know now my mother was so many things. She was a friend, a daughter, a wife, a journalist, and my mother. And I don't know her.  I have no way of knowing who my mother was. 

And that is what makes me most sad.  That she was this dynamic person that I know little to nothing about. I don't know what her favorite color was, or if she was a feminist, or even what made her happy. I just don't know. And there is this huge void in myself because I don't know. I don't know the woman who I came from. I don't know where I came from. 

So I want to make sure my son never feels that void. That if something does happen to me, he has a picture of me here. He has my words. He has in writing just how much I love him. I would do anything to have that from my mother. 

I guess it's a little morbid to have a blog just in case I die. But it's a reality I know. And if I can spare my son any heartbreak or sadness in the future, then I am going to. So this blog is for you, Wilson. So you can know me as your mother, your dad's wife, and as a person. 

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