I Do it For You, My Love
By: Deborah Umali
Although last week was nothing but dreary skies and on and off rain, it was officially Spring Break for us Texans. With spring comes holidays that never made me think twice before. Now, I can’t even fathom Easter, normally an easy, happy holiday full of Easter egg hunts and church. You should be here, in a matching dress with your sister, an Easter basket full of goodies that are lost on you, considering you are a mere three months old. Mother’s Day will follow shortly, and my dear love, I have no idea how I will endure.
This will be my first Mother’s Day with your sister by my side, and you in my memories. Your father, being the amazing man he is, will bring me breakfast in bed and a small, meaningful gift that will probably make me cry. He won’t know how to stop the tears, how to fill the hole in my heart, because, let’s face it, it just isn’t possible. Instead, I must remain steadfast in my promise to honor you by living.
To be true, my dear Charlie, some days I am merely breathing and going through the motions of living. I wear my pjs all day and pretend to work from home while crying into my coffee and begging your father to come home to hold me. But other days, my love, I soar.
I traveled to the mountains of Utah and hiked in unfamiliar territory with your aunts by my side. I took in beautiful scenery and breathed the freshest of air. I did it for you.
Back at home and with butterflies in my stomach, I signed up for a road bike class. I spent two hours on a rented bike, huffing and puffing through the streets of Richardson, TX. I felt alive. I did it for you. With shaky hands and much trepidation, I walked alone into an art class, and walked out three hours later with a creation I was proud enough to hang on my wall. I did it for you. And soon, I will fulfill my lifelong passion and take a Creative Writing workshop at a local university.
My love, my sweet, beautiful love, I do it all for you. So while, yes, Mother’s Days will never be the same and tears will be shed and the pain will be enormous, I am so thankful to be your mother. You are teaching me to live, to feel immense pain and carry on in the most amazing way possible.
I love you always and forever.
*Charlotte Elizabeth Umali was born still December 10, 2015. She was carried for 39 weeks in an otherwise healthy and uneventful pregnancy. She is survived by her mother, father and older sister, Lucille.