11.03.2014

magic.

“My happiest moments were way back in childhood. Everything was magical back then. All children are in a constant state of awe and everything is fantastic to them, but then the magical feeling dissipates and reality creeps in..."

There's a website that I look at almost every single day. It's called "Humans of New York". There is this fella in NYC that walks the streets and talks to people he finds interesting, then takes their picture. He posts their portrait along with one of their quotes from the conversation.
That quote was taken from 2 places. The first place, from HONY, the second place: my soul.

Your dad and I watched a movie this weekend that really struck me. He usually screens this type of movie for me to make sure nothing bad happens to kids in it. After having you in my life, I physically and emotionally can't handle bad things happening to children. I wrecks me.
But in this particular movie, he forgot that the main storyline is about a child getting hurt. and yes. as upset as the movie made me, I am just as angry with him for being such an oaf.

I quit watching the movie when the bad thing happened and I went to your room where you were sleeping so soundly. So magically.

And I wished, as I always do, that I could make your world magical and stay magical.

When I used to lead worship for First Baptist Dallas' Celebrate Recovery, I would always listen to the testimonials that people gave and how their childhoods were a wreck in some form or another. Some weren't that bad, some were staggeringly tragic, but every single person spoke about their mothers, and when they did, it would terrify me.

"What will Jovie's story about me be like? How will I ruin her or fail her?"
and I know that I will, in some way, fail you. When I get stuck in a horrible traffic jam and get to school late, so that you are the last kid picked up. When you are a teenager and want to go somewhere or do something that I won't allow you to do. When you are in college and I won't be able to afford the things you want me to buy, and make you pay for half, when you are an adult and need me in a way I can't be there for you.

Those are OK ways to fail you. Those are ways that will help you become a better person.
And I know you will get over those things. (Hopefully, I will, too)

My fear is more on how will my personality...and who I am...and how I handle my emotions...and how I deal with life be hurtful to you. Will you know it? Or will it dawn on you someday in your late twenties? Will I stunt you? Am I overbearing? Do I overshadow you? Will you be sad? Will you be angry? Will your magic be taken from you too early?

When I finally allow you to read these letters, I want you to be old enough to have figured out the ways I was a bad mom so that you can read this with those things in mind and know that I wanted so badly for the magic to stay forever. For you to always know joy and never know pain. For darkness to stay out of your life.

I know that I can't make your life always be magical, but I can try to make it last as long as possible.

Sooner or later, reality will creep in, but my hope and wish is that your reality is just as magical as I'm trying to make your childhood.
Like every child deserves.

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