Jessica Hildrum

A letter to Kevin

The greatest achievement of my life is you my lovely son.

I cannot remember a time when I did not want to be a mother. I remember when I was 11 living on a ranch in Northern California, we used to climb up a tree and sitting on the thick branches, we, my best friend Carrie and I would daydream of children and husbands and life to come.

I was sure that I would have a child and that I would love him/her, that I would take care and be just and playful.

I have longed for you my son since before you were conceived, and when I finally was pregnant I made for you in me the best space, taking care of myself, staying away from stress, filling our lives with as much love and laughter as could be stuffed, prodded and cajoled in.

I sang to you every day, Kevin, I told you stories about all the wonderful adventures life has to offer. And told you over and over how happy I was that you were coming into my life.

I am so proud of you, your sweetness, compassion and humor, your intelligence, calmness and your capacity for love. To be loved by you is a joy unparalleled, you say it and show it to me every day.

You are the most important part of my life, I strive to be a good mother for you, a good, decent and moral citizen to show you the way, to be an example. I live love for you, keeping our family together, keeping those we value close, this I wish to teach you, the art of forgiving, all encompassing, unconditional love. I too need reminding, and when I look at you my heart fills, and I remember.

There is nothing that you could ever say or do that could stop me loving you and being proud of the human being you are.

I love you Kevin, my son, I love you

Too young – yet again

Aaah once again I am struck by beauty.  The absolute luscious gorgeousness of the “dream” guy tall and blond and “ken dollish”, I find myself thrown back to my young adulthood in one second, flattened by the shyness I feel, blushing.  I force myself to meet his eye without giggling, meeting his broad smile with my own, speaking calmly and lucidly and proudly managing not to drool.

He is much too young for me, must be in his early twenties and while he flirts with me, smiling broadly – I know that it is not to be.

Where are you Mr. age appropriate?  I am waiting, and am suffering a bout of impatience.