Dear Mom,

Its your 50th Mothers day. I know. I can’t believe it either. 50 years of mothering. There should be an award for that.

50. Years.

On this annivesary of your life as a mom, I need you to know. I really need you to know.

I see you.

I.

See.

You.

I see you, my new mom, struggling to get me to eat. Switching from nursing to bottles to cutting the tips off of bottles so milk will pour down my throat. I see you praying I will swallow so nourishment can enter my system.

I see you, my new mom, handing me over to the surgeon on my first birthday with the words from the doctor, “She’ll be ok. And after this, she’ll be able to eat. Yes we know this first year has been hard. What a brave mom you have been.”

I see you, new mom, bringing me home from the hospital, with my arms tied to my sides to keep my fingers out of my mouth. I see you comforting me as I healed. I see you rejoicing when I took my bottle for the first time, without effort.

I see you mom of 2 young girls. 2 young girls that were professional fighters. We could scream with the best of them.

I see you mom of 2 young girls, I see you baking birthday cakes and preparing dinners to make our special day just that… special. From the moment I woke up to the last breaths of my day. I see you mom… making sure I knew that my life meant something.

I see you mom of teenagers. I see you balancing, full time work, college night classes, social calendars of teens and full schedules of your pastor husband. I see you handling this season with peace and I marvel that in my Junior year of high school you have completed your college degree and I celebrate you walking across stage to receive your diploma. I see you staying up late but never complaining about lack of sleep and struggle to get through the day.

I see you mom of teenagers. I see you driving me to work, picking me up late… from ball games, and sleep overs. I see you lying in bed awake as you waited for me to come home. I was driving. I was with friends. I was on a first date. I see you waiting to know I was safely back in my bed. I see you sitting through an entire Saturday of cheer competitions – where we never. stopped. yelling. I see you sewing dresses for Christmas, and easter and dances.

I see you mom of young adults. I see you taking me to college visits. I see you sitting on my bed next to me as I sobbed over an ended high school relationship. I see you encouraging me when I changed my college major time and time again. I see you wanting to tell me what to do, but wisely kept silent, knowing some things were just best learned from experience.

I see you mom of a newly married. I see you answering questions about cooking, and how to divide jobs in a marriage. I see you eating the Thanksgiving meal I made for the first time. I see you affirming that it tasted just as good as the ones you always made. I wanted it to be just that.

Just.

Like.

Yours.

I see you mom of a new mom. I see you holding your grandchildren. I see you reading to them. I see you patiently teaching them things I would never have the patience to teach. I see you remembering their birthdays.

I see you mom of a mom with growing children. I see you showing up for the good and the very, very hard. I see you running my home while I moved into the hospital with one of my three. I see you buying a one way ticket to come… and all I had to do was say , ” Mom.” I see you never asking when I wouldn’t need you any more. I see you staying.

I see you mom of a mom with growing children. I see you patiently waiting for phone calls from your busy children and grandchildren. I see you driving hundreds of miles to sit hundreds of hours to watch volleyball tournaments and cross country meets. I see you modeling what a life long relationship with Jesus looks like as you invest in time in bible study and worship. I see you showing me I can never loose touch with my Savior. I see you running to him as you face new life challenges that come with older life seasons.

I see you mom. I see you.

I.

See.

You.

and on this anniversary of your 50th mothers day, I pray you now know…

I always have.

Love, Beth