Dear Boys, I Don’t Want to Miss You

I wrote this letter in the middle of a breakdown.

I hadn’t cried in months and I was starting to feel a little hollow again.

It was the kind of tears that come when you finally get honest about the ways you’re failing, or at least the ways you feel like you’re failing. I realized I’ve been keeping parts of myself locked away even from my own kids. Not just the hard stuff, but the real, soft, messy heart of me.

This is what spilled out. If they ever read it, I hope they see more than my mistakes… I hope they see my heart

Dear boys,

I don’t want to miss you.

I don’t want to look back one day and realize I was too busy, too broken, too in my own head to really see you. To feel the way your voice changes as you grow, or the way you still ask for one more song before bed. I don’t want to forget the weight of your small hands in mine or the way your laughter sounds in the back seat as we go on one of our adventurers.

But lately… I’ve felt like I’m disappearing.

Not from you, exactly.

But from me.

And when I disappear from me, I start to disappear from everything I care about. Including you.

Some days I’m overstimulated before we’ve even finished breakfast.

The noise. The stress. The pressure.

The to-do list that never ends. The guilt that follows me into sleep.

I’m trying to keep everything afloat…money, meals, magic…and I feel like I’m barely hanging on.

And I know you can feel it.

I know you see when I check out.

You deserve a mom who’s present.

Not just in the room. Not just functioning.

But with you. Laughing. Listening. There.

And I want to be her. I am her. But I lose her sometimes.

I lose her under the weight of being the only one holding this family together.

I lose her when my brain feels too loud to hear you.

I lose her when I forget to take care of myself because I’m too busy trying to give you everything I never had.

I want you to have the world.

Trips, joy, peace, opportunity.

I want you to know what love feels like when it’s safe. I want you to grow up and say…

“My mom didn’t give up on me. Even when life gave up on her.”

And even if I’m cracked wide open right now..I’m still here.

I promise you, I am still fucking here.

Even if I’m tired. Even if I cry in secret.

Even if I space out or get too quiet.

I am still fighting. Still trying. Still loving you with every breath in my body.

You saved me.

And sometimes that truth makes me want to run… because the responsibility of being your safe place feels so heavy when I don’t feel safe in my own mind.

But I won’t run.

I promise you that.

Even when I feel far away, I’m reaching for the way back.

I will always fight my way back to you.

Because you’re the only thing that’s ever really mattered.

You both are the only light.. the only thing that anchors me when I want to give up.

And I don’t want to miss you.

Not for anything or anyone.

Love,

Mom