Reflections on my son's birthday: All that I can and can't say.

Classic Zachary move:

Grandma:  "Put Zachy on the phone."

Me: "Okay, Mom. . .Zachy! It's Ma-Ma!"

Zachary: "Hi Ma-Ma."

Grandma: "Hi Zachy! Happy Birthday! Did you have a great day?"

Zachary: "Ma-Ma, I'm four!"

Grandma: "I know! How's it feel to be four? Tell MaMa all about what you did toda--"

::THUMP::

Drops phone and walks away to go play with his new toys.

Love it. And him. :)

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"Loving you is wonderful

Something like a miracle

Rest assured I feel the same way you do. . .

Needing you it isn't hard

With you I can let down my guard

Stay secure that's all I'm asking of you . . .

I wish I had words to tell

This feeling that I know so well

But I don't, I don't. . . .

All that I can say. . . .

All that I can say. . . .

. . is knowing him, loving him

showing him that I'm all in

living and forgiving him

I would do it all again. . .

. . .genuine seraphim

sweeter than cinnamon

heaven-sent gentleman

Synonyms for loving him. . .

 I love you, I love you

Oh I don't wanna live without you

You're all that I can say. . . ."

~ Mary J. Blige's "All That I Can Say" (written by Lauryn Hill!)*

Dear Zachary,

All that I can say is that being your mom makes me want to wake up in the morning. All that I can say is that my answer to Toni Morrison's question is YES. Yes, son, my eyes light up when you come into the room.  All that I can say is that your laughter sounds like music to my ears, and that I love your scratchy-baby-baritone voice. I can say that, even though when I was pregnant with you I terribly feared that I could never love any child as much as I did your brother, that I was wrong. So wrong. I can say that the day God saw fit to let me be your mom was the day He created a new space in my heart just for you. A space that is every bit as special and cozy and perfect and open for more growth as Isaiah's space or Daddy's space. And that I'm so glad that He did.

All that I can say is that my life is indescribably better with you in it.  That you make me desire to be a better human being. And that every day, even if it makes me cry a little bit, I make myself realize that seeing your face and touching your cheek and smelling your skin is not a guarantee. . . but a privilege that I should never take for granted.

All that I can say is that I love you, son. And that I promise to make my love for you a verb every single day so that you grow up feeling and knowing and believing and internalizing the love in my eyes that sometimes has to speak for all that I cannot say. 

Happy 4th Birthday, son. . . .

Mommy

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*(Hear Mary J. Blige singing this lovely song here.)