Can we hurry up and get to the part where I don’t have to be a strong independent woman anymore. I really just want to be taken care of, I want to be soft and feminine and adored. 

I think that is a wonderful birthday wish. 

Sometimes I think about it, it’s a smell or food or a song that comes on. The ache in my heart is bittersweet. My throat closes up and tears well in my eyes and all I can do is smile and laugh. Because I love love love being your mom. 

I don’t recall exactly when, but at some point you each got too heavy for me to carry; too grown, too independent. I mean, I knew I was raising you to be able to handle life on your own. I just didn’t realize that also meant you weren’t going to climb in my lap or come crying to me when you got hurt, you got too big to ask me to kiss your boo-boo’s and make it all better. 

I knew one day you’d take care of yourself or maybe even a child or your own. And I am so unbelievably proud of the incredible souls that each of you have become and are still becoming. But I never thought the time would go by so quickly. I find myself missing those moments of you needing me. I miss carrying you and holding you and comforting you. But mostly I wish I could still kiss your boo-boos, tell you everything will be alright and make all the pain and sadness and sorrow go away and just make you smile.