friends

Dear John

Posted on May 8, 2012 Written by Tonya

Kirsten of The Kir Corner and I have a lot on common. Not only do we both adore cupcakes, shoes and our sons, we are soul sisters in our struggle with infertility. She has provided me with so much love and encouragement through this crazy journey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank her.

Kristen is a wonderful writer, mother and friend. We connected through our writing initially (she blows me away in that arena by the way), but within two minutes of talking to her on the phone for the first time over six months ago, I knew I’d have a friend for life.

It is my honor to welcome Kristen here today sharing the sweetest letter to her husband. Let it serve as a tiny glimpse into her gigantic heart.

I love Tonya. She is a girl who makes my heart happy because she is such a wonderful human being. I was so happy when she told me that I could write for the Letters for You series and for months I thought about who I would choose to write to.

In the end it came down to LOVE.

Thank you, Tonya for sharing your space today. Getting to know you the past year has been such a sweet surprise and I feel so lucky to call you a friend. xo

Dear John,

It seems like such a cliché to pick you to write to, when I could be cute, creative or cunning with that choice. Yet, it only seems right that I write to you since you are really the one person I write to the least when in reality I should be scrawling words to you on your bathroom mirror, tracing your name in the sand and shouting to the world about how much you mean to me.

So a letter, here at Tonya’s place, it is.

I am a true believer in the magic of the words “I love you” and it makes me so happy that you and I say them often, to each other, to the boys and we mean them. Even when we fight, we come back to “I love you” and that is something I know we are lucky to have in one another.

But there are two other words that I have learned are just as important and somehow just as magical,

“Thank you.”

These two words can heal an ache, they can build a bridge, they can allow a light to shine into the darkness and they convey gratefulness for things, big and small, common and extraordinary.

So…

John, sweet, gentle, funny and patient man of mine, THANK YOU…

…for loving me in spite of myself.

…for believing in me even when I can’t find that acceptance in myself.

…for letting me sleep on Saturdays when a migraine or a flare presents itself, without anything but concern at the heart of it.

…for making eggs on Saturday mornings and feeding the boys, for taking the garbage and the dog out, for carrying the heavy bags and for staying at the mall far too long without complaint.

…for calling me on my bullshit and encouraging me to be a better person.

…for knowing my favorite color, my favorite TV shows and movies and that cupcakes and high heels make me happy…all these things as silly as they look on the outside are the heart of you and me, I know, deep down, you know me and you love me anyway. (Wink)

…for shielding me from the bad stuff, the bad news, and for taking it all in your heart so I don’t need to, for being stronger than I am in so many ways. Our life is far from perfect but when we catch each other’s eyes and share a moment, a private joke, a laugh that doubles us over, I know we’ll be okay as long as we’re together.

…for being the kind of father to Giovanni & Jacob you read about in fairytales. You amaze and amuse me every day with the way you show our sons how to be a man in this world. I could not have asked for a better role model for them.

…for going beyond yourself to give me things. Last week when you told me you had booked the hotel for our Listen to Your Mother weekend and I said “thank you” you responded with “a star needs to be treated like one.” My heart exploded with the kind of love you have for me.

…for surprising me, in every day, with the way love works and for reminding me that even when I am sure you don’t “See me” anymore, you do and you acknowledge that in so many ways from letting me write a November away for NaNoWriMo, or leaving you with the boys so I can go to lunch with my girlfriends, from encouraging me to do the IVF because, “you’ll be right beside me”, to “finish the book” to “honey, this audition is ‘all you’” .

…for being the CHEERLEADER in my life, the one who stands on the sidelines and takes no credit but deserves it more than anyone for all you do. For telling me I’m beautiful & smart and making me feel that way when I stand next to you.

…for all the FAITH you have. Belief in us, trust in the modern medicine that brought us Gio and Jacob, Conviction in the way we live our lives.

…and finally, thank you, in every moment of every day, for Choosing Me to spend your life with.

Sometimes I am sure I do not deserve the blessed, lucky life we lead, but THANK YOU for asking me to be your wife.

It’s been the greatest adventure of my life.

I love you honey,

xoxo

I Want To Be Just Like My Dad

Posted on March 20, 2012 Written by Tonya

The very first blog I read was Coreen’s, The Adventures of Captain Fussypants & Little Miss. We were friends long before either of us blogged, but it’s was her willingness (know-how and wit) to share her life as a new mom that made me want to start Letters For Lucas.

Coreen and I are alike in so many ways and in the ways we are different, we learn from one another. She is not only a true confident and an amazing person, she is also one of the busiest working mothers I know and I’ll never know how she juggles it all.

I am blessed to have Coreen in my life and honored to have her here today with a tender letter to her husband carefully letting him know what a wonderful father he is and what amazing children they have created together.

Mi esposo,

When I learned our firstborn was a boy, I had a momentary panic attack. I’m a girl! What did I know about raising a boy, teaching him to become a good man? But that’s all it was, a moment. Because I knew I had you to help me.

We are lucky, you and I, that we share the same values, that we are a team and that we each come from parents that have been married over 40 years. Although we are two different people, our love is the same, solid. And as parents, we are a united front.

The awe and responsibility of caring for someone other than yourself is daunting. And with your work schedule taking you away days at a time, it’s even more so, for both of us. I know you feel you miss out. Childhood is full of so many firsts and made up of so many moments, that you don’t get to be a part of firsthand. Pictures, video, Skype, it all helps, but isn’t the same thing. But our children have only ever known you with this work schedule and they are not fazed by it because when you are home, you are there for them.

I know you worry that our son won’t be strong or be able to stand up for himself. Raising a child to be confident and self-sufficient is a huge undertaking. But I write this to assure you that he is already strong and confident. I watched him from the sidelines as he approached boys twice his age to ask to be part of their flag football game and my heart swelled with pride that he knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. He will be able to hold his own.

I know you worry that he will be the weird kid who will only eat plain noodles. But I write this to assure you that he isn’t afraid to try new things.

I know you worry he’ll turn into a wuss spending so much time with his mama. But I write this to assure you that he won’t. I won’t allow that to happen, because while a mama’s boy at 5 may be endearing, at 25 it is obnoxious. But I’ll snuggle him as long as he lets me.

I write this to assure you that while our son is a sweet, smart, imaginative and kind boy, he is also willful, clever, and competitive. Just like you.

He is a perfect blend of the best of both of us and that is a gift we need to embrace. Because as he grows, he’ll become his own person and will need us less. But I write this to assure you that we are equipping him with the right ideals, what it means to be kind, how to share, work hard, be respectful and confident. We are making him strong.

Our son hangs on your every word, so I write this as a gentle reminder to chose your words with care because when our son says, “When I grow up I want to be a race car driver, a motorcycle rider, a firefighter, a paleontologist, a soccer player, a hockey player and a chef. There are so many cool things to be, I don’t know which one to pick”.

What he is really saying is, “I want to be just like my dad”.

I write this to thank you for being a good dad, a good husband and my best friend.

I write this because I can’t imagine doing it without you.

And if our not quite two year old daughter’s early “terrible twos” stage is any indication, then we are really going to need to parent as a united front during the teen years because I certainly don’t want to do that without you!

Love,

Coreen

My Tree: A Timeline

Posted on March 19, 2012 Written by Tonya

As you may or may not know, my parents died while working in Tunis, Tunisia. My father was the principal of an American international school and my mother was a third-grade teacher.

A month after they died, the school planted two olive trees on campus in their memory. It was a lovely gesture and my sister, husband and I were to attend the dedication ceremony. I often think about those trees, what they symbolize and how they came to be.

American Cooperative School of Tunis – November, 2007

Two months later, my husband worked with our gardener to find an olive tree for our backyard and gave it to me as a Christmas gift. It is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I love that tree and enjoyed watching it flourish.

Pregnant with Lucas – April, 2009

Two years and a baby later, my husband opened his own car dealership and we moved.

Our moving day – December, 2011 (Lucas is 1 1/2)

The tree was one of the things I was most worried about because we weren’t going to take it with us. Until we got settled in a new city, we would be renting. Mercifully, the gentleman that bought our house said the olive tree could stay until we purchased a new home.

This past February, the new owner changed his mind, got a puppy who enjoys digging at the tree and decided he wanted to do something else with the yard space that has become my tree’s home.

My husband reached out to our old gardener and other tree removal companies and a couple of weekends ago with the help of a good friend, relocated my tree to the backyard of our rental home.

Moving day for the tree – February 19, 2012

It looks a lot different; sad, completely traumatized and barren, but we are hopeful that it will hang in there and someday flourish again.

My tree today, one month after being uprooted

Connection

Posted on March 15, 2012 Written by Tonya

I left my phone in my friend’s car Monday night. The circumstances ~~are still a bit hazy~~ aren’t important. Upon discovering this Tuesday morning and after the twitching subsided, I actually enjoyed being without my phone for two days.

Honestly.

Because I have a laptop. 🙂

Yes, I was fine until the electricity went out for the better part of the afternoon on Wednesday, which also happened to be a rare day Lucas decided to take a nap.

To make matters worse, I decided if I couldn’t be online or watch TV that I would take a shower; shave my legs, deep condition my hair and put on a face mask, only to find our hot water had been shut off too!

No, we are not delinquent bill payers. It turns out there was some “power line” emergency on our street or rather a termite infested tree that had to be chopped down. I still don’t really know, as my husband and I both got different stories from the men in hard hats directing traffic.

At any rate, everything has been restored now and I learned a valuable lesson: while it might be nice (and necessary) to unplug every now and then, I like being connected.

I like commenting on Facebook status updates and posting photos of my kid and seeing yours on Instagram. I enjoy “checking in” places on Four Square and hearing my husband’s voice midday. I’m lost without my electronic calendar and having iTunes at the ready is comforting, as are the text messages my BFF and I share throughout the day. Pinterest is where I get all my good ideas anymore and I am bound and determined to beat Jessica at Scrabble one of these days!

In short, connection is good.

Just in case you wondering.

Deep As The Ocean…

Posted on March 6, 2012 Written by Tonya

One of the main reasons my series, Letters For You exists is because of the gentle encouragement from my dear friend and fellow writer, Nichole.

I first fell in love with Nichole through her words at In These Small Moments and then had the incredible fortunate to meet her last August at BlogHer. Since then, our children have met and she and I have shared many heartfelt phone calls, tweets and text messages.

In many ways, Nichole and I are kindred spirits. We have suffered great loss and extreme joy and write about both.

I am so very proud to have Nichole here today and even more grateful for her friendship.

Dear Mom,

There are some nights when Craig and I come downstairs after putting the kids to bed and we’re so exhausted we just fall in a heap on the couch.

Parenting is difficult enough even when you have another person to lean on.

But, when I was a little girl, you didn’t have that support system.

You did it alone and you did an amazing job.

There are so many things for which I am grateful to you, but there never seems to be the right time to tell you.

So, I’ll share just a small handful of them with you now.

Thank you for always being honest with me…for telling me the truth about my dad’s death and trusting that with your help, I could work through it.

I am the woman I am today because of your encouragement to think through what I was feeling and to speak my mind with conviction. Thank you for never asking me to stop talking.

Thank you for sometimes splurging on toys. I now realize that you probably used your last dollars so that I could experience the joy of an occasional new toy. My Holly Hobbie, Colorforms, and Baby Alive are etched into my memory forever.

Thank you for never making a promise to me that you couldn’t keep and for always keeping the ones you did. You taught me that your word was gold.

Thank you for always being there to tuck me in at night….for scratching my back and talking to me at the end of the day. Those moments reminded me that you would always be there.

Some of the little things that you probably don’t think I even remember influence me as a mother. Thank you for always making cakes for school parties, playing Scrabble with me, and having slumber parties with me on the pull out sofa.

I always knew that as long as we had each other, we would be just fine. Through simple gestures like reaching for my hand to cross the street until I was a teenager, to comforting me when I had my heart broken for the first time, you taught me that together we could get through anything.

Thank you for showing me what it meant to be a mother. For teaching me through your own example what sacrifice, commitment, and determination look like.

Thank you for letting me spread my wings and leave when it was time. I hope to have that same courage when my own children grow up and move away. I hope that I can draw from the strength that you showed me then.

The childhood that you gave me was also a gift to Katie and Matthew. The lessons that I learned from you permeate their lives and I could never thank you enough for that.

I love you big as the world,
High as the sky,
Deep as the ocean,
Forever and ever,

Chole

Gene

Posted on March 4, 2012 Written by Tonya

A friend passed away on Tuesday.

A friend my family has known for 29 years.

A friend that even though wasn’t thought of on a daily basis, we shared a chapter of our lives together. He and his wife, Nellie lived down the street from my family for two years when we all lived in Karachi, Pakistan and a lifelong kinship was born. That tends to happen when you live overseas.

A friend just three days shy of turning 70 years old is no longer with us.

An amazing photographer, cook, teacher, world traveler and much, much more.

Gene, you will be sorely missed.

My heart goes out to Nellie, whom I can’t wait to hug on Thursday at Gene’s Memorial Service.

Dear Sarah

Posted on February 21, 2012 Written by Tonya

Katie is the genius (not to mention Child, Adolescent, and Family Psychotherapist and Parenting Expert) behind Practical Parenting and I have learned so much from her posts about being a better mom.

Her potty training tips are awesome, her post, The Great Mom Debate is one of my favorites and she even inspired the Valentine’s Day love notes I made for Lucas.

I am happy to have Katie here today with a letter to her friend Sarah. Friendships are so important and the ones that stand the test of time are unbelievably precious. We should all be so lucky to have friendships as strong as the one Katie and Sarah share.

Thank you so much to Tonya for having me here today. I have loved her letters for quite some time, as she often echoes the thoughts that run through my mind. Her letters are beautiful and always heartfelt, no matter the topic at hand. I often leave here thinking that I should do this too…write down the things I should have said or still have the opportunity to say. When she started Letters for You it was almost as if she heard my silent plea. I’m not sure that that I would find a way to sit down and write the letters that should be written on my own time, but I am honored to have the chance to share one here.

Dear Sarah,

It was over 36 years ago that our mothers first planted the seed of friendship for us. It was over 36 years ago that they both thought, thank god, a playmate for my little girl.

What started as a blind date in the sand box flourished into a friendship that I’m not sure even they envisioned. What began as digging, board games, and Strawberry Shortcake grew into the best friendship I have ever known.

In you I found another sister. A sister who would balance me out without the added sibling rivalry (we’ve never once felt the urge to compete). A sister who would stand tall by side and never, ever waiver. A sister who would always remind me of home.

Through countless tubs of Rainbow Chip frosting and repeated viewings of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, we survived those tumultuous years referred to as “puberty”.

Through bowling trips with John and Russ, weekends skiing in Vermont, and long summer nights full of big dreams, we conquered high school. We escaped the mean girls, played sports against each other without hard feelings, and laughed our way through high school dances.

Through beers, stories, dinners, and a few more beers, we enjoyed every moment of our time in Boston. Despite attending different colleges, we always found time to just be us.

But it wasn’t always easy…

At times, we’ve lived continents apart. At times, we’ve lived states apart. Today we live 3,000 miles apart. The distance has never felt larger.

We’ve helped each other through some very difficult life events. Events we never expected to endure.

Together we’ve survived suicide, cancer, infertility, and family strife. Oh, the never-ending family strife.

Together we said goodbye to my father, who always considered himself your father too, and my Nana, who was just as much yours.

Together we remained strong as we waited for the signs of remission when cancer hit a family member. Together we celebrated good health and new beginnings.

Together we fought my long and exhausting battle with infertility. We talked, cried, and laughed our way through the ups and downs until we reached the end.

Together we welcomed four babies into this world, just as we always knew we would.

Together we learned to separate our families of origin from our growing families.

Together we learned to find our voices and speak up for the needs of our own little families.

Together we learned to walk on.

Friendship is a funny thing. At times, it can come and go. As some friendships fade away, new friendships emerge. Some people say that best friends don’t exist beyond high school, that adult friendships are different.

But I know better.

I know that some friendships are meant to last a lifetime.

Your friendship has been the one constant all of the years. Your friendship has enabled me soak up every bit of enjoyment from the good times and to just survive the not-so-good times. Your friendship has taught me to be strong, loyal, and loving.

Above all, your friendship has taught me the value of just being me. And for that, I will always love you.

Love,
Katie

Katie & Sarah circa 1978

Memories

Posted on December 29, 2011 Written by Tonya

How far back do your memories go? Can you remember being two or three years old? Do you really remember or have you just studied photographs and heard the same stories over and over again?

I often wonder what Lucas will recall when he thinks back on his childhood.

Will he remember…

from time to time that his mom had black nail polish?

that every time a Dave Matthews Band song plays I ask him, “who sings this?” and giggle at his response?

that I’m always a couple minutes early to pick him up from preschool?

that I wear an “angel baby” necklace almost every day and my sister has a matching one?

how the song In My Life makes me cry because it reminds me of my father?

how his dad makes the majority of our meals because I’m a complete oaf in the kitchen?

how I may get so frustrated with him that I want to poke my eyes out with forks but the minute I am away from him I yearned to be near him again?

that in our house objects are not “it” but “he” and “she”?

that I’d be lost without my friends and the ones that have children I hope he grows up to be friends with too?

that his dad wakes up with him every morning so that they can spend a couple of hours together before he has to go to work?

Will he remember the Christmas morning we spent with his cousins, Annabelle and Francesca and the joy he exuded being chased around his aunt and uncle’s house, or…

“playing” the piano?

sitting in our laps to hear the book Purplicious three dozen times?

play dates with new friends with far cooler toys than his?

Visiting Nichole (In These Small Moments) and meeting her children, Katie and Matthew - December 23, 2011

meeting Fireman Steve and sitting in a fire truck?

Fireman Steve, Annabelle, Lucas and Francesca at the Moraga/Orinda Fire Station - December 26, 2011

Whatever Lucas recalls, I pray he remembers feeling special, adored and happy.

My Sweet Ethan

Posted on December 27, 2011 Written by Tonya

Many of you may not know this, but Natalie (Mommy of a Monster) and I go way back. In a former life, long before either of us had children, let alone a blog, we used to work together at a very hip advertising agency.

I liked Natalie from the moment I met her and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was the human resources manger and we were reviewing my new employee paperwork.

Natalie is “good people”, as they say and we connected on may levels, but most notably through our love of reading. We exchanged books back in the day and have shared must-read titles ever since.

We have long since moved on from the agency and started families and the rest is sort of cyber history. While we may have lost touch over the years, I am proud to call Natalie a friend and confidant and I am overjoyed to have her close out my Letters For You series for the year.

Natalie is a good mom, too and her letter to her eldest son, Ethan is heartbreaking and chocked full of mommy guilt. I know I can relate, can you?

My Sweet Ethan,

I can’t believe how big you are already. It seems like just yesterday I found out that you were growing in my belly, our tiny miracle that we had been waiting for after so many years of trying to have a baby. You are and always will be my true love and the biggest wish that I ever had granted.

Four years old. Already.

I have a confession to make to you right now, one you won’t be able to understand for many, many years. I feel like I am a bad mom. I feel like I’m neglecting you somehow, not giving you the time and attention you need and deserve. Your sisters are only two years old, and they demand a lot more of my attention throughout the hours of the day. I know I say “not now”, “later”, and “I’m too tired” way more often than I should, and even more often than I’m sure you want to hear.

Sometimes, after your sisters have both spent the last thirty minutes taking turns throwing fits while I’m in the middle of cleaning or cooking dinner, you ask me for something…sometimes it’s something as small as a quick read of your favorite book or for me to turn on your favorite cartoon. And I snap. I snap because I’m tired and at the end of my rope. You don’t understand any of this, and I am working on reminding myself of this and reprimanding myself when I realize that I’ve done it yet again.

I need you, my sweet boy. I want you to always love me and feel comforted by me. Yet I’m afraid that I’m pushing you away. I am having a hard time trying to figure out how to give you and your sisters all that you need without losing the person that I am. I don’t want it to be this way. I am really trying to be more patient and to give you more of me. Please know how important you are to me and how much you mean to me. Please know that I am doing the best I can. Please know that being yours and Lila and Mia’s mommy is much harder than I thought it would be. Please know that I want to be a better mom and that I want to be able to give you my all. Please know that I know that I’m not succeeding right now, but that I really am trying.

Please know that I love you with every ounce of my soul.

Someday, you will be a dad and I am sure you will nod your head as you are reading this because you will understand. Until then, I promise you that I will try harder. I love you, E.

Mom

Being Human

Posted on December 3, 2011 Written by Tonya

This week I received two birth announcements, learned that three friends are newly pregnant and to really rub it in, a darling new baby boutique just opened down the street from my house. Don’t even get me started on the Duggar’s.

Seriously, it is enough to push me right over the edge, but I won’t let it.

This year I suffered two miscarriages, my third and fourth, one in January and one in November. The latter was via IVF. Nice way to bookend the year, huh?

I’m allowed to be a little edgy, aren’t I?

Before this gets too ranty, I am truly happy for my friends and their new little bundles of joy and very excited for the others that are anticipating their second, third and FOURTH children.

I am also more grateful than words could ever express for my son, Lucas. He is a gift and some days I think if it weren’t for his smiling little face, I don’t know what I would do.

And to set the record straight, I don’t really feel as though anything is being “rubbed in my face”. Not intentionally anyway. Good news is meant to be shared and I love good news!

I have a deeper respect for my friend Coreen, who called to tell me about her new addition personally. Thank you, Coreen, I’m wishing you nothing but the best. xoxo

I’m just sad and frustrated and confused and completely inpatient. Not to mention, angry at my body’s unwillingness to cooperate one more time. I’m only human and I know that my feelings are normal, but DAMN IT, I hate that I have them. I hate that I feel like a failure. I hate not knowing what’s wrong, I hate the aging process and what it does to your reproductive system, I hate having my nerves on full alert, I hate doctor’s offices, shots, blood draws, waiting, worrying [please stop me anytime], but I mostly hate grieving for someone I’ve never even met.

HOWEVER, at the end of the day I remain hopeful and I know someday, somehow, I will have good news of my own to share.

« Previous Page
1
…
3
4
5
6
7
…
9
Next Page »

Dear John

Related Posts:

I Want To Be Just Like My Dad

Related Posts:

My Tree: A Timeline

Related Posts:

Connection

Related Posts:

Deep As The Ocean…

Related Posts:

Gene

Related Posts:

Dear Sarah

Related Posts:

Memories

Related Posts:

My Sweet Ethan

Related Posts:

Being Human

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

What I Write About