Even the butterflies love you

Seventeen years ago today:  I woke up a wife, a daughter, a sister and a friend.  I went to bed that night as a mom…. forever impacted, forever changed.  The following letter is to Spencer on his 17th birthday.  The one who taught me what it meant to be a mother.  The one who really taught me – and continues to teach me, in so very many different ways – what it means to love.

So 17 years.  It sounds like such a long time, and yet just as the cliche goes… it’s gone by in the blink of an eye.  It really does seem like yesterday that you were that adorable little toddler, with your cute little glasses and ready smile and ever-present toy tractor in your hand.  You were such an absolute joy.  So happy and carefree, so much fun to be around.

You still are.

Your teenage self is every bit as wonderful as a companion as your toddler self.  You are kind, and smart, and funny, and have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know.  I think of watching you over the past year, of having the privilege of seeing you mature into a young man.  Seeing your relationships grow, your knowledge expand, your understanding of the world around you deepen.

I think of your surgery… the same exact shoulder surgery that knocked me flat. out. for so many weeks in so many ways… surgery that you handled like a freaking rock star. Everyone said it was because of the difference in our ages (and sure, that likely played a part), but so much more than that was YOU, and your positive attitude.  I never saw you complain, not once.  I never saw you feel sorry for yourself, as much as I knew you were itching to get back out to working on your engines.  You never doubted for a second that you’d heal completely, and quickly.  Like crazy quickly.

I think of the day that I screwed up.  The day that I didn’t handle a conversation the way that I should I have, and went to bed feeling bad and yucky and off-kilter because of it.  I knew that if I didn’t get up and apologize to you, I’d never get to sleep that night.

You were already asleep when I went into your room.  “Spencer,”  I whispered, before I kissed you on the forehead.  “Spencer, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.  And that I love you.”

I don’t think you even opened your eyes.  But you smiled, and told me, “It’s okay.  I love you too.”

And that right there is the biggest lesson that you teach me, over and over.  When someone apologizes, you forgive.  When you accidentally hurt someone else, you apologize.  When you love someone you just love them.  Completely and unconditionally.  I’ve never seen you hold a grudge, not for a second.  Never seen you play games with emotions, never seen you turn on a friend.  Your loyalty is real, and it’s inspiring.

I want to be just like you when I grow up.

Happy, happy birthday, Spencer.  I hope you have a great time with your girlfriend today, and I can’t wait to go out to dinner with you tonight.

I thank God every day that I get to be your mom.