An Open Letter To My Son’s Future Wife

The wedding invitation came in the mail a few days ago. It was embossed with ornate green lettering requesting my presence at the ceremony that will join you both in matrimony. My baby boy who only just yesterday was playing with Legos and wearing velcro tennis shoes will be a married man in less than five weeks! My heart is being tugged in a million directions. I have seen the way he looks at you. I’ve heard him talk about you. You two are a perfect fit. This is true love, my dear. I know that. He is ready for this step, but as his mother, you must know that I was his first. 

I rubbed his head when they first brought him to me in the hospital and immediately fell in love with this gorgeous creature. My heart burst with joy. 

I fed him during the dark, quiet nights and held his warm body close to mine.

I was there when he pulled himself up and awkwardly took his first steps.

I sang to him and read him hundreds of stories and danced in the living room to James Taylor songs.

I held his little hand as he entered his first day of preschool, and I was there as he crossed the stage at his high school graduation.

I cheered him on through thousands of soccer, baseball, basketball, cross country, track, golf, football, and hockey games. I sat on cold metal bleachers, endured scorching ball fields, and stood in humid gyms.

I encouraged both him and his brother to relish in the simple joys of childhood. They jumped stairs, put on plays in the basement, sang loudly in the car, and ate popsicles on the back porch.

I proudly displayed his artwork on the refrigerator.

I told him wild stories at bedtime and kissed him goodnight.

I put little notes in his school lunches until he told me to stop. “It’s embarrassing, Mom.”

I baked him apple pie for his birthdays because he didn’t like cake.

I encouraged him when he wanted to play an instrument in the band. I was sad when he told me he didn’t want to participate in it anymore.

I loved seeing him sing and perform in middle school musicals and show choir competitions.

I sat on the porch at twilight and watched him play catch with his brother.

I cried when his heart ached and rejoiced when he soared. 

So, my dear, please be careful with his heart, because even though he has spent four years in the Navy and is now at the police academy preparing to protect and defend, he is still my little boy. The same little boy who loved listening to books on tape and slept with a blanket for years. The same little boy who played Baby Beanie wars in the basement and cried at the end of Bridge to Terabithia. The same little boy who slept with me for almost a year after we moved back home. This little boy who had the biggest heart and the bravest soul. You are so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing human being to join you on this glorious journey. My little boy, my son, my heart will soon be your husband, your future, your life mate. 

My advice to you is simple: Treat each other with kindness. Fill your lives with music and joy and playfulness. Kiss often. Judge less. Be happy. Take care of each other. Cherish. Treasure. Love.

“I have a son, who is my heart. A wonderful young man, daring and loving and strong and kind.” -Maya Angelou