times doctors told me to be prepared that you might not be born, or not make it long after being born,
times I’d wake up every night to make sure you were still breathing,
steps from the front door to the bus stop,
teachers charmed into submission,
times a week I wanted to beat you with the dirty socks you left on the floor again,
away matches to drive to in every wrestling season,
original songs you tossed out in the notebook you threw away when she broke your heart (I kept it),
times a day I talk to you as though you were still in your room,
times a minute I’m proud to be your mom,
as of today, the number of birthdays you’ve had.
As of today, the number of birthdays you’ve celebrated without me being able to talk to you, tell you how lucky I know I am to be your mom, embarrass you with the same stories about the day your were born, laugh with you and hear you tell me to, “quit with the cryin’ ma!”.
the number of anythings I’d give up to hold my baby boy today.
Happy 20th Birthday Boogie Bear. Don’t worry, I’m sure your Platoon leader doesn’t read my blog.