ThrowBack Thursday... The year my son was born.
He will be... Five. Years. Old.
I have to take a deep breath and say
it slowly. Five. Years. Old.
Five years ago this precious baby boy
came into my world and changed my life forever. When the doctor and nurses
placed him in my arms for the first time directly after his birth at 6:10A.M.,
April 5, 2009, something came over me again for the second time. I could have
sworn my heart felt full because of my first born, but when I touched him and heard
his cry for the very first time, I had never felt so much more fullness as it did
at that exact moment I had my first child.
From that moment on, I was not only one person's mommy, but I was a mommy to, not just one... BUT two little people. Having and raising two children has been the most
difficult yet most rewarding job I have ever had in which I can't even explain,
yet I am thankful every single day for these blessings in my life. Why? Because I had the two most amazing parents to lean on. They were our support. They were our team. Jason and I were extremely blessed. My parents were able to build this bond with my children like no other and I am blessed to have had that in my life.
Which is why this year will be the saddest year for us. We are still adapting to not having my daddy be a part of our lives. It's still fresh and seems like it was just yesterday, however I heard once we make it through the first year, we will make it through all the years.
The year of firsts. The year where holidays and special occasions will never be the same.
The year where I can not call him to wish him a Happy Father's Day. The year he won't have "surprise" roses for me on Mother's Day and tell me how great of a mother I have become. The year he will not be there to sing me Happy Birthday and kiss me on my cheek telling me how proud he is of me. The year in which we can not celebrate him and my mom's anniversary together. The year, I will not be able to hug him and wish him a Happy Birthday with a cake in his face. And most importantly, the year that he will not make an entrance at the kids' birthday parties.
What I am happy for is the time and years that we were able to have him in our lives. The years and special memories my children were able to make with him while they could. Grandpa's bring a little more wisdom, happiness, warmth, and love to every life they touch. He was there for each of my children's birth, standing beside me, giving me a look of such happiness and proudness. He was so proud to be a grandfather. He was a part of them throughout their little lives and because of that, they built a bond that they will always carry with them even with him gone. This will be E's first birthday without his Papu by his side but he will cherish him always.
The year of firsts. The year where holidays and special occasions will never be the same.
The year where I can not call him to wish him a Happy Father's Day. The year he won't have "surprise" roses for me on Mother's Day and tell me how great of a mother I have become. The year he will not be there to sing me Happy Birthday and kiss me on my cheek telling me how proud he is of me. The year in which we can not celebrate him and my mom's anniversary together. The year, I will not be able to hug him and wish him a Happy Birthday with a cake in his face. And most importantly, the year that he will not make an entrance at the kids' birthday parties.
What I am happy for is the time and years that we were able to have him in our lives. The years and special memories my children were able to make with him while they could. Grandpa's bring a little more wisdom, happiness, warmth, and love to every life they touch. He was there for each of my children's birth, standing beside me, giving me a look of such happiness and proudness. He was so proud to be a grandfather. He was a part of them throughout their little lives and because of that, they built a bond that they will always carry with them even with him gone. This will be E's first birthday without his Papu by his side but he will cherish him always.
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