Thursday, August 10, 2017

Dear Garret

Dear Garret,

Last month two 2nd graders told me you were handsome. Of course you are. I often wonder if things were different what mischief you would be up to in school. How many trips to the guidance office you would take. How many girlfriends you will have. How many hearts you will break. I wonder and wonder. But then I catch myself. I tell myself to stop wondering. Because there are no answers for that. There are, however, answers for this, what we have right now, who you are right now. Perhaps the only mischief you are up to are the ones only your Mama knows. Your Mama who is also your guidance counselor and teacher rolled into one. We know full well how that plays out, don't we? Perhaps the only woman in your life will be me. And the only heart you will break is mine. Until the end of time. And you know what, my dear boy? That is okay. That is perfectly okay. It took me quite some time to come to this. But I think I may have finally come to terms with this part of our journey. I am sorry it has taken so long. And maybe there will be many more days I will still wonder. Forgive me. But know this: I love you. I love you. I love you. In all my wonderings and endless what ifs, I love you.

You are turning out to be a fine, handsome young man. Yes you are indeed. Allow me one last wondering in this letter. I wonder if you remember how I read to you over and over when you were three years old lines from a book. It said, "I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." It rings true for you. I hope you do remember.

I love you, my baby.

Love always,


Dear Morgan

Dear Morgan,

When you laugh it is as if the hundred thousand angels in heaven are laughing with you

When you cry,  clouds are your friends,  their tears spilling over in torrential rain, crying with you

When you wrap your arms around my waist, hug me tight and we hold hands swinging round and round, I know what dancing with the stars must feel like

When you gaze at me, cup my face with your hands, and murmur words you and I can only understand, I know for a moment what heaven looks like

There are still many times I ask "Why?" And what if? And what is the meaning of all this. Then I remember a gift is a gift. And you, my dear boy, you and your kuya are the most precious of all.

I love you, I love you, I love you, remember that.

Mama Bea