A few months ago, I read a blog post by Mandi Sharpe that really got me thinking about what kind of relationship I want to have with the future wife of my 2-year-old son, Major. Mandi described a beautiful and heartwarming relationship between herself and her son's wife, and I can only hope that I share a similar bond with whomever Major marries. So, this is an open letter to her, wherever she is now.
Dear sweet girl,
As I sit here gazing at Major so happily playing with his toys and his dog named Eason, I think about what you might be doing right now, and what your life will be like between now and the day Major meets you. I can't wait to hear about it, that's for sure.
I can't wait to meet you, but at this stage I'm also sad to think about not being the number one woman in Major's life. (Don't worry girl, I'll get it together by the time he meets you.) If you are reading this, you already know that Major has cystic fibrosis. If I'm being honest, by the time you are reading this, I hope that he had cystic fibrosis.
There are so many things in Major's life that you won't be a part of when it comes to his CF. And when he meets you, there will be many things that I won't get to be a part of.
I hope that if he's ever hospitalized, you'll let me be there … a lot. Even if it's just in the waiting room or watching the kids so you can have time with him or bringing you both dinner. I just want to be around.
I hope that on the days that CF makes you sad, you will call me and let me remind you how strong you are. I hope that when he isn't feeling well and you have to help him with medications, you won't feel overwhelmed. I already know that you will be well versed in his care and ready to step in where needed.
I hope that you'll understand that my relationship with him is pretty unique. I am not only his mother, but also his advocate and biggest fan. But by the time you meet him, he will have taken the lead. I imagine (and hope) that I will always have a connection with Major that is made stronger by CF.
I hope that you can understand that today, I am dreading him meeting you. Like any new mom, the thought of not being his number one gal makes my stomach drop. The thought of you watching TV with him during treatments while I am far away makes my eyes well up with tears. Thinking about how one day I won't be the one he calls when he is coughing is difficult. Knowing that as he grows up, I may not hear something is amiss until you've been in the ER with him for two hours is hard too.
But trust me sweet girl, I will get it together. By the time you meet him, I'll have let go … some. I am still his mom, so try to be patient with me. I will let you be number one in his life. I will try not to step on your toes. I know that I won't be perfect, though. When I do get in the way, just tell me. I really do want to be your friend and, more importantly, your family. So when things get rough, please try to give me some grace and know that my heart is breaking as much as yours. I won't always say the right things, but I will always try. I already love you.
Until we meet, sweet girl.