I wonder about you. Do you ever wonder about me?
I know, without a doubt that you wonder about him, the boy that forever connects us.
I wonder what you look like, how tall you are. I'm betting you're tall because he is tall. But who knows? Do you also love pickles and cheeseburgers? Are cheeseburgers even a thing in Russia?
Do you bite your fingernails or is that something he picked up on his own? Does your hair get wild when you sleep too? What about those freckles, where did they come from?
Did you sing him to sleep? Did you kiss his cheeks a million times a day too? These are the things I want to know, I don't want to know the other things, the things that most people ask me; the things about why I am his forever mama and you are his first mama.
Some people say things like, "You're his real mom!" and they're right. I am his real mama and I am his forever mama but you were his first mama and you are real too. You hold pieces of him, secrets that I'll never know. But then again, I hold some too. I wish I had all the answers for him, I wish I could give him more.
I'm saddened for your loss, maybe more than I "should" be, but I don't know how to stop feeling like I do. Someone close to me called this survivor's guilt, and maybe it is a little bit of that. But more so I think it's just my love for him. Because you are part of him and he's part of you. You are part of his story, so I'll always keep you in thoughts and constantly be...
wondering.
I know, without a doubt that you wonder about him, the boy that forever connects us.
I wonder what you look like, how tall you are. I'm betting you're tall because he is tall. But who knows? Do you also love pickles and cheeseburgers? Are cheeseburgers even a thing in Russia?
Do you bite your fingernails or is that something he picked up on his own? Does your hair get wild when you sleep too? What about those freckles, where did they come from?
Did you sing him to sleep? Did you kiss his cheeks a million times a day too? These are the things I want to know, I don't want to know the other things, the things that most people ask me; the things about why I am his forever mama and you are his first mama.
Some people say things like, "You're his real mom!" and they're right. I am his real mama and I am his forever mama but you were his first mama and you are real too. You hold pieces of him, secrets that I'll never know. But then again, I hold some too. I wish I had all the answers for him, I wish I could give him more.
I'm saddened for your loss, maybe more than I "should" be, but I don't know how to stop feeling like I do. Someone close to me called this survivor's guilt, and maybe it is a little bit of that. But more so I think it's just my love for him. Because you are part of him and he's part of you. You are part of his story, so I'll always keep you in thoughts and constantly be...
wondering.
<3
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