Personal letter sorta, so I’m putting it behind the cut.

I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you opened your eyes and blindly stared in my direction, through the glass window of the hospital nursery the day you were born.

I dragged everyone I knew to see you that day. For whatever reason, they went. Sorry we were drunk. *shrug*

I loved you even when you plopped yourself in my lap Christmas eve, 1991. The look on your face when you realized I wasn’t mom, the abject terror in your screaming, even the clawing at my face – just made me love you even more. And hey, I hadn’t been away from home that long, was it really necessary to go for the eyes?

I loved your tiny voice on the phone, asking when your birthday present could come home from the hospital, and you told me it was okay I missed your birthday party. I even loved you when you no longer wanted that birthday present when you found out it came with dirty diapers and a big set of lungs.

I love you for watching out for her when she lived with you and went to daycare with you. You still didn’t want to keep her forever, but that’s okay. I did.

I loved you when you turned blue at the lake after your swimming lesson, even though it was hotter than the edge of hell. I loved you, even though there were times I wanted to swat your ass and put you in a corner for twenty minutes.

I loved you – and was so proud of you – when you found one of Joey’s teeth and knew to put it in milk. I know you felt bad that they couldn’t save all of them, but still. You were awfully brave that day.

I love how you became Floppy the clown or whatever the name was, to keep the kids entertained for that reunion. I love how you could be so stingy and crazy playing Monopoly. I love how you dug in and helped us pack and move when we were so upset and scared and hurt. You were really good with the girls. They really love you, too. Yes – even Care.

I love how you helped take care of Gran and Gramps so very well when they needed help.

I love how you managed to stay yourself and stick to your goals even though mom tried so hard to break you and kill your dreams.

The truth is – even though we won’t be there for a huge part of your life, it’s not because we don’t love you. We love you – and always will.

Keep fighting. Don’t lose yourself, don’t let that part of you that makes you you get broken.