Over a Decade

Dear Miles,

4,018. I’ve been blessed to have you as my little man for four thousand and eighteen days. Eleven years ago today, you smiled your way into the world and changed our world for the better. My memory of that day isn’t perfect, but I do remember vividly when our doctor told us you were a boy. I was in disbelief. Boy?! I also remember the look on your dad’s face when the umbilical cord was loosely wrapped around your neck and the fear he had cutting it—he was so afraid he would cut you instead. He didn’t but his face was sheer terror. I learned just today that he shed some tears when he shared that he had a son with your uncle. A moment I wish I would have witnessed.

You have a heart of gold. You are so very smart. You are funny, silly and lovable. All the things that make you, YOU. From the moment your personality started to appear, you have made it impossible not to smile when you’re around and the reason you’re often called “Smiles.” If I had written a letter to God with a list of everything I wanted in a son, I’m fairly certain He answered every prayer when He gave us you.

Over the last year, I’ve watched you grow and learn. You were Top Dog at school in the fall for being one of the most caring students in the school. It was a goal you made at the beginning of the school year to achieve and you did it a few months in. And, I couldn’t pick a better trait to describe you and it melted my heart when your teacher told me.

You are a quiet but fierce competitor on the field. You don’t walk out looking to the be the star, you walk out looking for opportunities to help your team win. You listen to your coaches and take their feedback in stride—knowing that whatever they are saying will help you grow as a player. I cheered from the sidelines as you and dad worked as coach and player to win the soccer championship with you in the goal and back-to-back games ending in a shoot-off (nothing like making your mama’s heart race).

Over the winter, you stole my skis and boots and took to the slopes. With most things you are adventurous with a side of caution. It took you a few times up the lift before you got the itch to hit the blues and then the moguls. You are a quick learner and somehow face the mountain with little fear. I have no doubt that you’ll be as light-footed and quick as your dad on skis in no time (but don’t expect me to join you on the black diamonds).

This year you finished fourth grade. It wasn’t exactly the spring we envisioned going into the school year. You spent it at home learning virtually with me and dad helping you along the way. While it hasn’t been easy on any of us, it’s been the hardest on you. But you’ve tried to turn lemons into lemonade and look for the silver lining throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. Besides not being able to hang out with your friends or hug your grandparents, the worst part was learning your first travel baseball season was canceled. You worked so hard in the off season to make a team and even though you faced disappointment after not making the first team you tried out for, you bounced back with excitement when you made the second.

Tonight, I witnessed your first “game” and loved every minute of seeing you behind the plate again. Even though you’ll only take the field at practice and scrimmages this season, I’m thankful we’ll get to see you doing what you love. You love the game and I love watching you play. I’ve missed watching you defend the plate.

Little man, I am so incredibly proud of you. Life is for living and loving and you do both. You carry a part of my soul and it’s a privilege to watch you grow. You are loved, admired and cherished every single day.

You are my sunshine.

Love, Mom(my)