3 years ago you made me a mom. What a ride it has been so far. So much happiness and laughter, yet at times so much grief and tears. Also on this day, especially on this day. As we celebrate you reaching a new age, a new milestone, a new year to explore and to grow. I also fear the moment that is coming closer with each year that we celebrate your birthday. The day that ‘it’ will announce itself. The day that you will notice. The day that I cannot prevent from coming. The day that is inevitable. The day you will tell me that you cannot see in the dark and I will know, we will know, that it has started. From that moment on you will lose your vision over time. I cannot write this without crying, I am sitting in a library while you are at school and I don’t care people seeing me cry. I am allowed. With each year that you grow older, you get less time. Less time to see the world with your full vision.
I never could have imagined this happening to us, to you. But it did. Three years ago we received the greatest gift and along with it came the biggest challenge of our lives. I cry because I don’t want this for you. I want your vision to stay like it is.
I want to spare you the pain of knowing what you will lose, the disappointment of letting go of things you love, the anger of ‘why me’. With every celebration of you getting older, I know we get a step closer to the great unknown. I dread it, every second of it. I don’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss.
I dry my tears. I need to go back to school for your birthday celebration. Today we celebrate life and love.
Happy birthday my sweet Jackson.