Updated: Mar 27
When you are older and moodier and when things no longer excite you like they once did, I’ll remember your pants on crooked as your little legs moved quickly across the yard.
I’ll remember your eyes wild with excitement at the sight of a bird flying from tree to tree.
I’ll remember the sparkle in your eye.
When you no longer want kisses from your mama, I will remember the “muah” sound and the adorable kissy face you made when you would run up to me for a smooch.
When your voice changes into a deeper, manlier tone, I will remember how your sweet little voice would say “mama” more than any other word.
I will remember how it sounded hearing you yell for me down the hall when you woke up.
When you don’t come to me for everything, and when you want to be with your friends, I’ll remember how you would always grab my hand to pull me to the ground with you, where we would play with your toys.
And then grab my hand and bring me to the next thing you wanted to play with.
I will remember how that little hand felt around mine.
In the days when laughter is more difficult to pull out of you, I’ll remember the sound of your giggle. The giggle that could soften the hardest of hearts in an instant.
The giggle that reminded me why I am so lucky to be alive and have you.
When cuddling on my lap is laughable because of your size, I’ll remember the hours you spent on my lap reading book after book. I’ll remember how my lap was your favorite place to hang out.
When you roll your eyes at me and don’t laugh at my jokes, I’ll remember how you scrunched up your little face with the big, beautiful grin when you were being silly.
I’m going to keep these memories so close to my heart because I know there will be a day when you will change . . . and these things will be gone.
It’s not that I won’t love you as much then; I know I’ll probably love you even more.
But it’s just that you and I have such a special bond right now.
Right now, you need me.
You run to me.
You always pick me.
I am your person.
And I’d be lying if I said letting that go will be easy.
So I will ingrain these moments so deeply into my brain.
I won’t let them slip away.
These memories will be my greatest keepsake.
And because of these precious memories, this is how I will remember you, my son.
~This article was originally published on Her View From Home at: https://herviewfromhome.com/dear-son-when-you-no-longer-want-kisses-from-mama/