Our story

Right now they are the main characters in my story.

And I am the main character in theirs.

This is what these early years are made of.

So much togetherness.

Looking to each other, for each other, and out for each other.

We are to one another what is needed at any given time,

Even if it doesn’t always feel like it.

And we write each chapter together,

Even if I am the one telling it.

But that won’t be forever.

There will come a time when the narrative changes.

When togetherness looks apart but connected.

When the days of just us have already passed.

When it becomes a story they too can retell.

And when that time comes I will listen.

To the things they remember that they loved.

To the parts they thought I could have done better.

To every little aspect of the days we lived as younger versions of ourselves.

Then I hope we laugh, cry, and embrace each other like we do now,

With the same big love living on and holding us together even though we are apart.

Because that’s the sort of mother I want to be and the sort of childhood I hope they remember.

One that isn’t perfect, but is filled with love.

A steady love.

One that carries us through as we continue to age together.

One that is retold at weddings, birthdays, and one day at my funeral.

One that leaves warm hearts and teary eyes,

Just like it does now, when I think of these days being any different.

This is the story of “Us”.

Right now.

But also one day.

And although I know I won’t always be their main character, and they will not always want to be mine,

We will always be part of each other’s story.

And I can’t wait to hear how they retell it.