This week marks one year since I brought my son home from the NICU, just a day before his due date. I remember it like it was yesterday. There will be a lot of things I know I’ll remember, important milestones in his life, that he won’t. It is my job to remember for him until the time comes when he’s remembering things for me.
Today’s post is in honor of this important moment.
You won’t remember
the nights we’d wake up to your cries
and how we’d cuddle you until you went back to sleep.
You won’t remember how I’d sing to you,
and how I never knew the words to that Mockingbird song,
but sang it anyways.
You won’t remember squealing with joy
every time you’d pet the dog, climbing all over him
as he lay there patiently as you explored.
You won’t remember pulling at my hair,
nose, cheeks, and lips,
as you learned my face.
You won’t remember all the times you fell,
how we’d run to scoop you up every time.
You won’t remember opening and closing
all of the cabinets and drawers,
taking out whatever treasures you’d find.
You won’t remember my daily struggles
to change your diaper and get you dressed as you scrambled away,
too busy to be stopped for such nonsense.
You wont remember crawling up my legs
when you wanted me to pick you up.
You won’t remember the first time you said “mama.”
You won’t remember the first time
you stood up on your own,
your first step,
your first smile,
your first laugh
But I will.