I was there. Do you see me? Over there? The one in the back with the camera. That’s me. The one with the perpetual pony tail that comes with the job titles. Wife. Mommy. Photographer. Business Owner. Do you remember me this way? I hope so. I hope you remember me young, and happy. I hope you remember this.
I hope I adequately showed you, during your childhood, that I love your daddy, that I love you, that I sincerely try to do what’s right. I hope you remember that I love God, and that my faith was a defining part of who I was. I hope I taught you that coffee is vital to a happy morning, and that true friends are hard to come by, but that they are there, even if it takes a long time to find them. I hope I showed you that white and milk chocolate are the only ways to eat it, that a mom can have fun, that dancing in the kitchen is the thing to do when you’re stressed, and how fun it can be to count down to a birthday. I hope that I showed you that snowball fights are amazing, just like spring rain, sleeping under the stars in the summer, and pumpkin patch visits every fall. I hope you remember a smile every morning when you wake up, and a kiss and a prayer, every night before you went to sleep. I hope you remember hearing me late at night working for our family, and that you always felt you could sneak up the stairs in the early morning hours, while I was having my coffee and doing my devotion.
I hope you remember being snug in your bed as you heard me moving around upstairs. I hope you remember me giving you lots of hugs, and I hope you remember how you covered your eyes and said, “Ewww!” whenever you saw me and daddy kissing. I hope you remember sunny days outside, walks to the park, and learning how to ride your bikes, and how you fell off, but, after a hug, mom told you to get back on it. I hope you remember helping me fix my hair in the morning, and sitting down at the table for school every day. I hope you remember tears when you fell, and smiles and cheers at your basketball games. I hope you remember red painted finger nails and how mommy likes to text, and that the only time you heard her yell was at a Gonzaga game, and I really hope the only time you saw me do that weird victory dance you learned was every time I beat your daddy at a card game. I hope you remember the Kindle that Emma threw in the bathtub, and how mommy laughed and said, “Ok. That was bound to happen.” I hope you remember who was sitting in the front row of all your Christmas plays, and I hope you remember open arms whenever you needed a hug. I hope you remember washing the dishes with me, and making cookies with me, and playing Superhero’s with me.
I hope you remember that my camera was a nearly permanent attachment to my arm. I hope you remember me squealing when I got a amazing picture of you with daddy, and I hope you remember why I always told you we needed one. “Because, you can never have too many memories. All these precious memories.” I hope you remember that I hated being in pictures, but made daddy take once every few weeks of me with you both, just because you wanted me too. I hope you remember that I let you hold my camera, and I hope you remember that I taught you how to edit a picture. I hope you remember me being a patient teacher, and I hope you remember how much I love my job. I hope you remember how many times I asked you for “Just one more picture!” and how many times you saw me in the back of the crowd, stealing a picture, capturing memories.
I hope it’s not too much to hope you remember mostly the good. I hope it becomes a mesh of happy memories of childhood, a blur, almost, of love and happiness. I hope you are carefree. I hope I’m doing a good job. Most of all, I hope you know how much I love you and your daddy. I hope no matter what happens in this life, good or bad, rain or sun, that will never ever change. No matter if the world stops tomorrow, no matter what you do in life, no matter what I do in life, I.Love.You.
Love, Your Mom