Dear Wilder, I am small compared to my big love for you. Tonight, as you lay beside me, you smelled like an infant and I was reminded of how long it took me to feel bonded to you. That kind of love, that kind of depth, was big and scary to me. But you persisted. You continue to amaze and awe me.
My favorite moment today was sitting beside you, making your Halloween costume. While my mind went to how imperfect I was at sewing, you sat beside me on my king-sized bed, your foot grazing my thigh, and you sewed little stitches with your own needle into a piece of tissue.
You were also a mom, you said. You were a mom to your baby chick, a plaything. You wanted to make her a Halloween costume, as I was doing for you.
You chatted with me the whole time. Your hands busy. My hands busy. I wish I looked up you more, just to take you all in. I knew it was special what we were doing, because it was absolutely ordinary and in that ordinariness, you opened up a whole world to me. Your inner world.
I slyly hit record on my phone, because you were telling me how you knew me before you arrived here. You were telling me how you knew you'd choose the best mom and dad around. You told me how you knew my grandmother, and you were sorry she passed away.
I don't know what I did in my life to deserve you, but you help me to believe that Spirit loves me unconditionally, because of the ways that my heart has opened, the ways I've shown up beyond what I thought I could do, just for you.
I want all of these moments to stay in my memories, because I know that with every passing day, everything's changing and you'll never be as young as you are now.
You're like the island of Kauai that I carry with me all the time. I did not know that you would be my dream of all dreams. I did not know the cleansing, the transformation, the trauma, the life I was launched into when I became your mother.
I said I named you Wilder Love, because you were meant to show me how to love more wildly. So it is.