Currently Browsing: Letter from Mother to Son

The Mother You Made Me, by Katharine Foust

To My Son,

Mother’s Day is coming soon. As you do every year, you will feel bad that you can’t buy me something. Words cannot make you fully understand why I prefer the things you make me with your own small hands to anything you could get for me with money. One day your own child will shyly give you a handmade gift or card and you will know, as do I, the thought and effort that went into this creation. You will also know that no store can possibly duplicate the effort that went into this gift of love. Let me see if I can explain why no amount of cash can purchase what you have given me.

You try to buy me flowers. You can’t see the garden that blooms within me every time I see you perform a kind gesture for a stranger. You don’t know that every kind gesture you perform plants a seed in the mind of those you do kindness to.

You wish to buy me a necklace, but I prefer the glow in my heart that outshines any jewel that would adorn my neck. The jewel in my heart gets brighter with every hug I get from you.

That ring in the store begs you to put it on my finger. How can you not see that your hand in mine is the only adornment I require? (more…)

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A Letter To My Child, by C. Peters

My child,

I have so much to say so please bear with me. It’s strange how life can twist and turn and your life-long fantasy of how things should be just drifts away with the next breeze that blows by.

I wanted the perfect life for you. I wanted to be able to give you everything and anything you wanted. To say that I have always wanted you would be an understatement. I have longed for a child and was blessed to find out that you were going to grace my life in a short nine months.

Your father and I were together since I was 15 years old. Everyone warned me that, although he might be fun to date, he would never provide me with security and was not “marriage material”. I didn’t listen. I wanted to believe he would change and that my presence in his life would make him want to be a better man.

We married and my life became clear. My life would consist of never having a home of my own and working long hours just to support my husband, who would not even attempt to leave the house or his video games. We lived with my mother and I adjusted to his ways. He was an adult who never grew up. (more…)

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Can’t Count to Five

The following Unsent Letter was sent to me anonymously and was donated to be put on the blog. I do not know who wrote it. She requested I include the information at the end of the letter. I don’t know if the letter is true or not, but I don’t think when you read it that it’s going to matter. I cried through editing it, so be forewarned.


My Dearest Baby Boy,

Sometimes when you are sleeping, I watch you lying there, so peaceful. I believe with all my heart that the world would be a better place if we could all know the peace of a sleeping child.

You’re young now, but you’re strong and beautiful and perfect. One day, you’re going to grow up and you’ll think back on these times, and you’ll remember. When you do, I hope you remember how I am now, and not how I’m going to become. This is the mother I want you to see me as. I suppose if there is one consolation to this it’s that I will always be eternally youthful in your memories.

Right now, you don’t understand the big grown up words that are being said around you. You don’t understand what Stage Four means. You don’t realize that, even though you have learned to count to 10 now, that when it comes to Cancer, five doesn’t come after four. Four is as high as Cancer can count, my darling boy.

I know you don’t understand words like blood tests, and hospice and home health. You don’t even seem to notice that mama doesn’t have hair like the other kids’ moms do. You still touch my face when I’m sleeping and tell me, “Pretty, mama.” And so I am, because of you. The only thing you know is that mama sleeps a lot, and she doesn’t wrestle on the floor with you much anymore. In a way, I’m glad that’s all you know. (more…)

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