Dear Enzo,
When I was pregnant with you I read a book by Anne Lamott about her son's first year. It was full of pithy anecdotes and pointed observations, and beautiful language and I was inspired. I vowed to keep a journal of your first year. Then, when on a trip to Seattle, I found a fantastic little book called the "first 1000 days" and I vowed to write down everything you did in your first two years. But then, when you were born, I got lost in a fog of sleeplessness and wonder and forgot all about my promise. When remembered my vow and purchased a journal and tried to write I found that words escaped me. How did Anne Lamott so poignantly capture her thoughts and impressions of that first year? Every day has been a new adventure with you and I can't begin to wrap my arms around it.
Then, last week I read a book by Donald Miller called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, about how your life is a story and we have to choose what story we want to live and the author told about a friend of his who writes down all his memories so he won't forget anything. Later that night you were nursing before bed you put your tiny hand in mine and I looked down at your chubby, tapered fingers and realized I was going to forget that moment. That I was already forgetting what you were like when we brought you home from the hospital. How you were so tiny I was afraid I would lose you, but you could yell so loud I knew I never would. And I decided to get off the couch and write down my memories of you.
So here are my letters to you, my son. They won't be as beautiful as Anne Lamott or as smart as Don Miller but they will at least be ours.
Love, Momma
When I was pregnant with you I read a book by Anne Lamott about her son's first year. It was full of pithy anecdotes and pointed observations, and beautiful language and I was inspired. I vowed to keep a journal of your first year. Then, when on a trip to Seattle, I found a fantastic little book called the "first 1000 days" and I vowed to write down everything you did in your first two years. But then, when you were born, I got lost in a fog of sleeplessness and wonder and forgot all about my promise. When remembered my vow and purchased a journal and tried to write I found that words escaped me. How did Anne Lamott so poignantly capture her thoughts and impressions of that first year? Every day has been a new adventure with you and I can't begin to wrap my arms around it.
Then, last week I read a book by Donald Miller called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, about how your life is a story and we have to choose what story we want to live and the author told about a friend of his who writes down all his memories so he won't forget anything. Later that night you were nursing before bed you put your tiny hand in mine and I looked down at your chubby, tapered fingers and realized I was going to forget that moment. That I was already forgetting what you were like when we brought you home from the hospital. How you were so tiny I was afraid I would lose you, but you could yell so loud I knew I never would. And I decided to get off the couch and write down my memories of you.
So here are my letters to you, my son. They won't be as beautiful as Anne Lamott or as smart as Don Miller but they will at least be ours.
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