You have the greatest soul, the noblest nature, the sweetest, most loving heart I have ever known. You are my inspiration, you are the line on the sand when I go too far. You always remind me of good things that will happen to me and you always warn me of bad things that might happen to me. You give me hope and you take care of my fear. I’m a fearful person and it’s really important to know there’s someone who’s caring enough to share my burden together. I thank you for that. I wouldn’t have been who I am today if it wasn’t because of you. I would still be the little fearful girl, all afraid and alone with uncertainty in my life. I would still be the little crybaby I was, all afraid to stand up for myself and voice my opinion. I would still be the old me. You, my friend, have changed me in so many ways. I hope we’ll be the best of friends ever and you will continue to bear with me because I wouldn’t be able to afford losing someone as great as you. You might not know all about this because you wouldn’t think of any of this. You are too noble for that, you would think that it was you who learnt things from me. Truth is, it is always the other way around. You are a teacher and you are my teacher.

Hell, you are even my shrink.

Love,
Me

Crushing on you starts when we laughed. Falling for you starts when you promised. Missing you starts exactly when you left. Waiting for you starts when we are parted. Forever will start when you say yes.

I think it’s time to quote that cheesy line from the movie. I think it’s time to say, “You had me at hello.”

Love,
Me

When you came into this world, my life was forever changed. Your father and I knew that we would face a mountain of difficult challenges ahead by becoming parents. As you’ll learn with many curveballs life throws at you, timing is almost never perfect, but you have to make the most of it. But any aspirations that I might’ve had—the selfish sort for success, money, fame, recognition and fabulosity, which I’d achieved to some degree as a freelance writer—just flew out the window when I discovered I was pregnant with you. And every niggling doubt I had melted the minute I held you in my arms on that cold March day. I decided whatever sacrifices and hardships we would face would be so totally worth it.

When I was young woman, I wondered what my purpose in life was. I spent most of my teenage years and 20s trying to find where I fit in this world. It was a struggle. I knew I was smart and talented, but still, I didn’t feel very good about myself. Oftentimes, I felt like a ship without a rudder, drifting into choppy waters, losing my way in the fog. But then, you came—a shining beacon of light, and suddenly, my charted course became infinitely clear. Your name means “strong woman,” a name you chose (that’s another story for another day), but so befitting: because as you grew in my belly, a sense of calm washed over me that I’d never experienced before. As I nourished you with mac and cheese by the bowlful (My big pregnancy craving was cheese, so much so that your nickname was Baby Mac), your spirit gave me strength.

On this historic day in 2009, you are not quite four years old, but already so aware. Your face lights up at seeing Barack Obama, as if you somehow know what he represents. And what YOU represent, mi amor, is the multicultural Generation of Hope. Already, I see flashes of brilliance, beauty, strong-will and the loving, emotive spirit that your future self will become. I know from experience that growing into a young woman isn’t going to be easy. You and I will fight. You might even tell me that you hate me. God knows I did, many times, to Abuelita. I often joke that it was my karma to have a girl, as payback for being such a crappy kid to my mom. But I now know that it’s my job as a mother to love you, to protect you, to encourage you to reach the pinnacle of your potential, to know your self-worth, and to embrace your inner and outer beauty, to keep you grounded, even if it seems counterintuitive to your already fiercely independent spirit. The world you’re growing up in is so different than mine—in some ways scarier, but in many ways, better. There will probably be times that I have to tell you that this world doesn’t revolve around you. Again, that’s my job. But know this: My world revolves around you. I love you. Ferociously.

Love covered big chocolatey kisses topped with marshmallows,
Me, Mami

This is the silliest thing I’ve done in a while, but I had an unfathomable, irresistible, self-indulgent urge to express something to you, and to do so in a way that wouldn’t cause either of us too much discomfort or embarrassment.

I confess: You. Are. Magnetic. I am hopelessly, thoroughly smitten. Your charm, intelligence and charisma slay me. Plus, you’re really sweet and stunningly beautiful. If the world was a simpler place, I might have just approached you and said something like, “Hey, I have the hugest crush on you. No big deal, really. Just wanted you to know… I’ll be on my way now.” That way I could have gotten it off my chest, and you probably would have been a little flattered. A win-win situation. But as we know, the circumstances of real life are often unforgiving and complicated. So I couldn’t bring myself to do something so bold. And it’s for the better, no? This is a safer, less compromising win-win situation. Maybe it’s even kind of fun; it is for me, anyway.

Admittedly, this is an odd thing to do, but I swear it’s innocent. I hope that, at the very least, this revelation will brighten your day a little. I’ll see you around.

Love,
Me, the not-so-crazy stalker.

Here are a few things I wish to do with/for you at some point in this lifetime:

Be your best friend.
Get caught with you in the rain.
Dance with you in the rain.
Spend all day with you doing nothing.
Long night walks on the beach.
Be more proud of you than I already am at this very moment.
Go on a carriage ride through the park.
Do a crossword together.
Go to brunch.
Have a disagreement and self-discovery.
Go for a horseback ride at the beach.
Watch a bad movie together.
Spend the rest of my life with you.
Have our picture taken together.
Build our dreams together hand in hand.
Kiss you just because I can.
Eat a gallon of ice cream with you.
Make love to you passionately.
Go to a museum together.
Talk to each other using only body language.
Give you space when you need it.
Accept you totally and completely – flaws and all (I already do).
Discuss current events in a heated debate.
Have you see the error of your ways and make mad, torrid love to you, in the midst of all that passion.
Carve our names into a tree/table.
Go for a walk at dusk together.
Be one with you.
Open a restaurant with you.
Wake up in the middle of the night to watch you sleep.
Hold you and realize how much I love you… and tell you.
Gently run my hand across your cheek and kiss your eyes.
Sing a song for you with my crappy voice.
Spend my life making you happy.
Spend my life making our parents happy.
Feel your heartbeat.
Go ice skating together.
Give you a backrub just because.
Always being honest with each other.
Go camping together.
Cry together with you.
Wash your underwear, shine your shoes and iron your shirts.
Laugh at someone together.
Share a plate of spaghetti.
Cook our favorite meals together.
Go on a fun family vacation with you and bring back the kind of memories movies are made of.
Wake up in your arms folding mine.
Go on a road trip across America.
Count thunder together during a thunderstorm.
Laugh at each other while burping.
Hold hands at historical places while we’re engulfed in the glory of the past.
Wash dishes together.
Know you better than you know yourself.
Go to a winery tour across Europe together.
Write a song together, you – the music, I – the lyrics.
Pretend to have a fight with you in public to fool everyone else.
Flirt with you for the rest of my life.
Carry your last name.
Hold you when you’re at your saddest and comfort you when you need it the most.
Be the one you come to for that comfort and holding.
Wipe away the days’ stresses and issues, with just one hug/kiss.
Grow old with you.

Love,
Me.

In April, 1986, at the age of 32, I was still looking for solutions outside of myself. I was looking for someone who would fix my life for me. I thought if someone would love me, everything would fall into place. Since I was born, I’d had a complaint that nobody wanted me. Nobody loved me. I was nobody’s favorite. I had spent my life searching for a particular someone, the person who was glad I was born, the one who would love me and protect me. I was always looking for this person. I had never quit.

Now I thought I had found her. I believed you were “the one”.

I first saw you that March at the Exchange Club Spring Trade Show. I was with my old partner Billy. There was something about you that drew me to you, but little did I know how big a part you were to play in the rest of my life. I had the opportunity to meet you a month later at Timber Expo, a show I was producing for the radio station. When I was producing a show, I was on top of the world. I greeted all the participants with excitement and enthusiasm. I was kind of cocky with confidence.

I met you with the same self-assuredness. I first noticed you unloading your pickup before the show. You were quiet and reserved. I flirted with you as I went about my job. I stopped in often to check on you. Unlike other show producers, I spent every minute connecting with the participants. I paid attention to every detail and made sure everything was perfect. I personally talked with each booth member and welcomed them and offered to solve any problem they might have.

Your booth was in about the center of the show. You stood out from everyone else on the floor. You were wearing a white dress, and every time I looked at you, you were looking at me and smiling. I did my job from a level I had never experienced before. I was “perfect”. By evening, I was making a couple stops an hour by your booth to see if you needed anything. I asked you if after show that night we could get something to eat together. You agreed, and we stopped at Burger King, grabbed a couple burgers, and headed to my apartment to relax.

We sat on the floor watching television and holding each other. We eventually made love and fell asleep. It was the easiest thing I had ever done. The next day, as I was cleaning up after the show, you invited me to attend the Loggers Convention in Spokane the following week. You said to me, “You can do anything you want.” These simple words were like a sign from God to me. These were words I had been waiting for all my life. They gave me permission to be free. All my life I’d had to be careful of what I said or did. I was always looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Suddenly, with you, that was lifted, and I was free. With those words, I heard that you were the “one” I had been waiting for. You were the one who loved me completely, were glad I was born, and would protect me.

You were a tough woman whom I could hide behind. You worked highway construction. You appeared to me to have everything and just wanted to take care of someone. I was no longer responsible for keeping myself out of trouble. I could finally relax. I no longer had to protect myself.

I had never been so moved by anyone in my life. The feelings I was having were strange. I felt invincible, euphoric, unlike I had ever felt before. Your words were like music to my ears. Songs I heard had meaning and spoke directly to my heart. They were popular songs with titles like, “Addicted to Love,” “Danger Zone,” and “Stuck with You.” I was not paying attention to my fear level. You were the one.

Love,
Me.

I wish I understood you, 
why you are the way you are,  
why you make me feel the way you do, 
and why you have to be so hurtful at times.

I want to get to know you, 
and see you for what you are.

We could talk about the past, 
but I’d rather discuss about the future,

I wouldn’t mention all the times you 
weren’t around when I needed you, 
or how many times you hurt me.

Instead I want to walk hand in hand, 
best friends, trusting one another.
Knowing where we each stand, 
and understanding each other.

Love,
Me.

You asked me to sing to you. I complained, “Aw, Mom, I’ll wake people up.” Once again, I let my ever-present stage fright come before you. Looking back, it’s hard to believe I was so selfish. But you persisted, and eventually I caved.

I sang our favorites—Barbra Streisand, Linda Ronstadt and Bette Midler. My voice was quiet and hushed, commensurate with the dim light in the room. I made sure the sound didn’t penetrate the walls. You listened with your eyes closed, then thanked me and told me how lovely and peaceful it was.

When we brought you home that last week in January, I would sit with you in the evenings. I read to you from The Tragedy of Richard the Third, knowing it was your favorite. Of course, I made sarcastic comments along the way. “Lady Anne was the biggest idiot in the world.” My eyes searched yours for a response, hoping they would open and smile at my glib attempts.

I read you poetry from Robbie Burns and Walt Whitman, and rubbed lotion on your hands. Finally, I worked up the courage to sing to you again. You weren’t able to ask me this time. Grandma peeked through the door and gave us a tearful smile. I stopped. “Keep singing to your mother,” she said. When I finished Dad asked me, “Would you sing at the memorial service?” You were lying right beside me, and suddenly it seemed so perverse to have this conversation in front of you. “I don’t know if I can. I’ll try.” We didn’t speak of it again.

That Saturday, after you were gone, I went home and practiced. I needed you to hear me one last time, beautiful and unblemished.

And then there I was, standing at the podium. I didn’t tell anyone what was planned in case I chickened out. While the minister told me when to come up during the service, Shirley, who was giving the eulogy, asked, “But what if someone stands up before Jennifer?” I shot back, “Well, now—they’ll just have to wait, won’t they?” She laughed, “You are just like your mother.” I smiled and thanked her for the compliment.

My hands shook as I faced the microphone. I spoke a few words to gather my courage and compose myself. Then, very quietly, I sang, “Somewhere over the Rainbow.”

I thought back to when I was a little girl. You would call me on the phone during one of your trips to watch The Wizards of Oz with me on TV. Miles apart and racking up the long distance charges, we would both squeal during the tornado scene. We sang duets, and trios when Ashlea rode in the car with us. It was our song.

I finished the last line, “If happy little bluebirds fly, beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I?” Then I whispered, “Mom, you have beautiful wings now. May they take you wherever you want to go…”

At least a hundred people witnessed the most difficult moment of my life, but only one person mattered. Of course I will sing for you, Mom. Feel free to ask me anytime.

Love,
Me.

I always loved you. I still do. It’s true that I have left you for another, but truth be told, I even still remember that fateful day. It is still vivid in my mind like it only happened yesterday. That happy day. The day we fell in love.

When I first professed my love to you, people mocked me. “We don’t understand,” they said, “how possibly did you become like this? You will regret this. He’s got nothing for you. He is not even capable of loving you back. To him, you are and forever will be a stranger. A subject to use and throw away when no longer needed. He will only hurt you.”

But I persisted. I knew you had reasons for everything. You were angry, you were sad. You were disappointed and you couldn’t think straight. But I knew you would love me back, if only I showed you how my love was not like others’. I did not love you for what you could give me. I did not love you for what worldly happiness I may get. I love you because I don’t know how not to.

And we swam in the ocean of our love. A love so young, so wild; it knew no pretenses. It was raw, it was selfish. It was burning as fire, it was giving as water. It commanded our every way. But it was also so pure and innocent that even gods looked at us in envy. Such a love is dangerous, they said. I was young; I should go and see the world. I just laughed at them. I didn’t want the world. I wanted only you.

Perhaps it was gods; or perhaps it was fate that played a cruel trick on us. We had to be apart. I was heartbroken. (Weren’t you too?) But even in tears, I tried to be faithful. I kept your image dearly. I ignored everything else that came by. For four long years, only the thought of you made me want to go on. It made me want to survive.

They say people never change. But time did make you change. It made ME change. Our little brief encounters were not the same anymore. The romance faded, the flame dimmed. I tried to remind myself of all the things I loved about you, about those days. Those happy days. But as much as I wanted to deceive myself with those fond memories, you slowly walked away. You are not the same as the one I had always loved. I couldn’t find comfort in you. I couldn’t see myself in you. We were two silent lovers, eager to go but too sad to leave. So with tears I said goodbye.

…..

Now after some long years, I come back to you. I come without expectations, a mindless journey of a confused traveler.

You put on your best suit. Then with words as sweet as honey you entices me. With old time intimacy you seduces me. It is as if you can look through my weak heart. Isn’t it cruel of you, knowing that I’m now with someone new?

I take my time, I try to resist. But dear God, how can I neglect such beauty? Hesitantly I look around. I see how you aged. And what a magnificent view it is. Past glory and hope are racing, impatiently forming those fine lines above your brows. History and love stories are entwining, boasting a certain intricate display. I stare at it, I trace it. I was there, I realize. And whether I like it or not, it had been made permanent.

Then I see your kids. Naked, they swim and dance in your flowing river. They jump, they sing, they wave and they shout my name. They have almost nothing to eat and wear, but they have more joy than all money in the world can buy. They are children of the sun. They are children of the wind. They are free.

In the bliss, I breathe deeply, inhaling your air. It smells fresh, but I sense something decaying. It is a familiar taste: a hint of false warmth, a dose of vanity, and a large mixture of bigotry. I stop to find the source of these unpleasantries. Then I look at your people. Oh, what a great masquerade they play. Washing their lips with holy words, pretending it is devotion. Gods are mentioned in every conversation. Phony worships are offered, as if bribery makes sanctity. In all those things they hide their fear of heaven.

I laugh bitterly. I comprehend. This is the grown-up you. This is what grew in you after we are separated. This is what then defined you. The you that I hated and made me call it quits. So why is what I feel now sadness, not disgust?

I contemplate. I walk on your streets, I sleep in your forests. I talk to your river, I ask your leafy trees. I fondle your flowers, I befriend your land. I finally find my answer.

I love you because you make life seems so simple. You make me feel that what I have done and what I have struggled for means nothing more than just a speck of dust in this universe. This is probably what I need. To understand my existence. To have a reason. To be humble. And only you can teach me that. With your burden, your sorrow, your hope and dreams…

But now it is all too late. I am with someone else, and this time I have made a promise. A promise I can’t take back. A promise I will fulfill. I must return, and again must say goodbye. I know you won’t cry. For you know that you will always be in my heart. And our love is eternal.

Love,
Me.

I knew this poem first time from Patch Adam Movie. It’s a beautiful poem. The scene when Patch read the poem during Corrine’s funeral really touched me and made me cry. At that moment, I talked to myself that one day I want to read this poem also to you. I want to let you know that…

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
(Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda)

I love you and that’s all I know.

Love,
Me.