Letters to sons from mom: A Letter To My Son: What I Wish For You

Posted on 25 ноября, 2022 by alexxlab

12 Heartfelt Letters for Mom from a Son

Guys may not always be the type to sit down and write a heartfelt letter. If you need a quick gift for your girlfriend but don’t have the cash, it might be one of those occasions. However, writing a letter to your mother? That’s not exactly the most conventional thing guys do for their moms.

When you think about it, if there’s one person who deserves a letter of thanks in your life, it would probably be your mother. She raised you, took care of you, and even put up with you during your rebellious teenage stage. So if you want to show your mom some love, these letters might eloquently express your gratitude for everything she has done for you.

Dear Mom. When I was a little kid, I used to idolize a whole bunch of people. Sometimes they were real people like Johnny Knoxville, Kurt Cobain, or Bob Marley. There were times when my hero was Spiderman or Superman or Batman. However, it took me years before I realized that the most important superhero was right there before my eyes: you. You were the first person real superhero in my life with the way you took care of me. You made sure I had everything I needed and more. You would wake up so early just to make sure I had breakfast and a packed lunch. You made sure I was safe and happy. You would have moved heaven and earth to make sure I was always okay, even if meant going head to head with people in school who didn’t treat me right. Mom, you always saved the day, and I will be forever thankful for that.

Dear Mom. It’s so humbling to take a step back and examine my life knowing how big of an impact you had on me. You were always there for me when I needed you the most. From little league games to school events, you were there for me. But these things are nothing compared to how you took care of me every single day. You always made sure there was food on the table and a warm bed to sleep in. You made sure my clothes looked presentable even if that meant sacrificing your own appearance. Most of all, you always made sure that I grew up with the right values to get me through life. Thank you for everything you did for me.

Dear Mom. Though there were tough times in our lives, you made sure to keep me safe through it all. I know that if you had it your way, you would have spoiled me. But you always made sure there was balance in my life. You never hovered over me whenever I wanted to do something. But you also never left my side whenever things got difficult. I know that moms are known to worry and stress about their kids, and even though that might have been what was going on in your mind, you never let me see it. “Good children grow up with love, not with anxieties,” as they say. And I am 100% sure that you brought me up with all the love you could give. You have always been so good to me, even though I didn’t always see it. Thank you for raising me up right. Love, you forever baby boy.

Dear Mom. I know a lot of guys get slack for being known as a mama’s boy. But I never considered it an insult. You’re the number one woman in my life, through thick and thin. You were the leading example for what a lady truly is – kind, compassionate, and brimming with a zest for life. Even though women have come and gone in my life, I always knew that you would be the one woman who would always be there for me. Thank you for being that shining example. Thank you for always loving me even when I was difficult. And thank you, most of all, for showing me that nothing can ever compare to a mother’s love for her son.

Dear Mom. I know it’s been a while since we have had a really long conversation with each other. I’m often so busy with work and everything else in my life that I hardly ever find time to drop you a line just to say hi. So to hopefully kind of make up for that, I’m writing you this letter. Mom, you were my first hero. While most heroes are known for saving entire cities and vanquishing monsters, you did something even more important – you were a mother. You were the first person who taught me to use a toilet. You taught me my first words. You figuratively and literally taught me to get up on my feet. You praised my successes and supported in times of disappointment. You held your head up high so that I could see a shining example of a woman who takes pride in what she does. You showed me the importance of being one’s own self without regard for what irrelevant people say. You instilled in me the self-confidence I needed to get by in life. And most of all, through good times and the bad, you loved me unconditionally, through and through. I love you from the bottom of my heart, mom!

Dear Mom. When I was a little kid, I used to think girls were gross because they had cooties. This was common playground talk at the time because we were dumb kids who didn’t know any better. But as I grew older, I learned the value of getting the opposite sex to like you. Now, naturally, this was tough for any teenager who didn’t have a whole lot of self-esteem. Little did I know that I shouldn’t just be chasing girls for the heck of it. I should be looking for women who had values like my mother. You were always so caring and kind towards us. There were times when we were being difficult and annoying, and even through you’d lose your temper a little bit, you still managed to discipline us in a way that was fair. You showed me that a woman should have love for her husband and her children. You showed me that while doing cool stuff is awesome, what’s more awesome is having the patience and ability to run a household and still have a life of your own. Thank you, mom, for showing me the best kind of woman I should be with. I know that I will make the right choice because you have showed me what to look for in a future wife.

Dear Mom. For as long as I can remember, you have always been an incredible presence in my life. You, my doting mother, were born to play the role you still play even though I’m a full-grown man. Whenever I needed someone to talk to, you were there. You knew the right moment to be serious, and the right moment to have a laugh. You had clever quips up your sleeve that would still often surprise me. Whenever I needed advice on anything, you were always there to share your wisdom. Whenever I need someone with me when life has been tough, you were there as a shoulder to cry on. I was always your baby, your little boy. And you did everything you could to make sure I grew up happy. Thank you for everything you have done for me, mom. I love you so much!

Dear Mom. If all the beauty in the world could be embodied in one person, it would be through you. You have always been the ever-glistening light in our lives. Your smile was something we all tried our very best to see because a happy mother is a beautiful mother. I feel so blessed to have you as my mom. You have always radiated grace and kindness in everything that you do. From a simple meal to a little present you’d give me, I could feel your love. Whenever you would greet me good morning or bid me good night, I could feel all the motherly love you have. You have always been a soothing presence in our lives. Happy mother’s day to our beautiful, wonderful mother!

Dear Mom. When you brought me into this world, I’m sure you weren’t prepared for what motherhood had in store for you. After all, being a good parent doesn’t come with instructions. You and I, we walked through life not knowing what life had for us. And yet look at us. We made it! You were able to raise me and my siblings in the best way you could. You took care of us in your own way, and we all grew up strong, happy, and successful. I’m sure it wasn’t easy doing that all on your own, but you never lost patience with us. You always made sure we were cared for. Now that we’re older and starting families of our own, we fully realize how hard life must have been for you back when we were little. Mom, thank you for all the sacrifices you made and all the love you gave us. We never would have made it in life it weren’t for your love for us!

Dear Mom. It’s close to impossible to put into words everything I appreciate about you. You are a wonderful person in your own right, but you are awesome as a mother. Thank you for never giving up on me despite my failures and the disappointment it has brought you. You were always my number one fan and cheerleader, and you never failed to support me when I needed you. Thank you for holding my hand through the difficult moments in my life, and thank you for being so proud of me when I succeeded. Thank you for thousands of hours you spent taking care of me, making sure I was happy, and guiding me through life. Thank you for being who you are because if it weren’t for you I would be nothing.

Dear Mom. I want you to know that you mean the whole world to me. Where would I be without your presence in life? Probably lost somewhere with no hope. You are not just a mother, you have always been my best friend – the source of my strength, my shoulder to cry on, and my favorite coffee buddy. You were never scared of sharing and your honest opinion about everything with you throughout my growing up years and this has taught me so many precious lessons about life. You have made me the person I am today, professionally and personally. Thank you for being my best friend, my cheerleader, my pillar of strength, my favorite cook, my secret Santa Claus, the best crafter in the world, and most of all, thank you for being my mom!

Dear Mom. Though I don’t know firsthand what it’s like to be a mother, I can tell that it’s one of the toughest jobs in the world. Being a mother means being perpetually patient when your little boy wants to run around and you just want to get the groceries done. Being a mother means answering every dumb question your kid wants to ask you while you’re doing chores. Being a mother means watching Transformers over and over and over again in the hope that your kid finally gets tired and falls asleep. Being a mother means being able to take good care of your kids, keeping the house neat, and still maintaining a good job. Lastly, being the mother means being the never ending source of love and support for your kids. And wherever life brings me, and whatever the future holds, I will always be grateful for everything you have done for me. You have all my love, and I couldn’t wish for a better mother if I tried!

It doesn’t have to be Mother’s Day or your mom’s birthday to merit a sincere letter from you. Any day of the year is a great day to show your mom some love!

Your Mom Is a Badass | Letters to My Sons

In this letter to my sons, I remind them that their mom is a badass and talk about why we’re moving across the country.

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“Letters to my sons” is a series of posts where I write to my two young sons, with the hopes that they’ll be reading these letters in about a decade.

This letter tells my boys a little more about why we’re picking up and moving across the country, and why their mom is a badass.

Dear Sons,

Yesterday we celebrated Theo’s eight birthday. You both probably don’t remember it, but it was a banger of a pool party. Screaming kids were tearing around our backyard shooting water guns, jumping into the pool, and eating candy. The parents sat under the pergola and sipped beer and rosé, wearily complaining about traffic and school tuition. Kate Bush’s song “Running Up That Hill” played on the speakers in the background.

It looked like you both had an amazing time, but it was a bittersweet event for your mom and I. It’s probably going to be the last birthday party we host in our backyard, because as we told you this morning, we’re moving.

Have the courage to change your life

In my last letter, I wrote that I hope you have the courage to change your life. When you’re older, you’ll occasionally be faced with a hard choice. One option will be to continue the status quo. The other option will be riskier, but it’ll possibly bring you closer to your life goals. When you reach this fork in the road, just remember that sometimes it takes a bit of turmoil and stress to live the life you truly desire.

Your mom and I are going for the riskier but potentially more rewarding option right now. For our family, this means uprooting our lives here in Los Angeles and moving across the country.

When we told you both about the move this morning, you seemed to take it surprisingly well. Perhaps you were distracted by the chocolate chip waffles, or maybe the news just hasn’t sunk in just yet. But I bet sometime over the next ten years, you’ll look around and wonder why we gave up the sun and sand of southern California.

Here are the two reasons:

We think this move will get us closer to a life of purpose and meaning.
Your mom is pretty awesome, and awesome people get offered cool opportunities.

Your mom is a badass

I’ve purposefully kept details about your mom out of my blog to protect her privacy. But she’s grown more comfortable with being in the public eye lately. I suppose it’s inevitable, since I blab about our personal finances all over the internet now.

For many years, she’s been one of the top leaders at a big museum here in Los Angeles, running logistics and artistic direction. This year she realized that she’s outgrown her role and is ready to lead a museum of her own.

As luck would have it, there’s a museum across the country that can use her expertise. This museum is on the brink of a huge transition, and they’re looking for someone to lead it into a new phase of growth and relevance. It looks increasingly certain that your mom will be that leader. I’m really proud of her.

It turns out that when you have talent, competence, and determination, you just have to make it known to the universe that you’re ready for a new challenge. In short order, opportunity will fall into your lap.

It’s time for me to put up or shut up

On my end, there are basically two options open to me. I can dig in my heels and try to preserve the status quo, where for the past few years I’ve juggled a busy urology practice, administrative duties, and a second life as a blogger, investor, and educator. I can keep commuting two hours a day in punishing traffic, dreaming of a life where I could put all that wasted time to better use. Or I can support my wife and take advantage of this opportunity to redefine my life.

Honestly, I’m tired of hearing myself complain about being burnt out, unhealthy, and stretched too thin. I don’t want to have to explain to my readers yet again how I’ve been destroyed by another punishing overnight call and therefore haven’t had a chance to write up the exciting developments in my life or real estate portfolio. I also don’t want to rehash the same tired excuses why I can’t optimize my health or take my various businesses to the next level.

So I’m choosing door number two. I’m finally going to practice what I preach and prioritize the three things that comprise “my why:” family, friends, and freedom. This move feels like the best way to do that.

So we’re all going to support your mom’s career and move onto a new and exciting phase of life. For me, this next phase will be about conscientiously crafting a life where my time is allocated appropriately to my passions. It’s going to be all about growth, financial freedom, and impact.

For you both, it’s going to mean a new city, a new school, and a new house. (We still haven’t decided if we’re going to rent or buy. ) But don’t worry, the family will stay the same, and yes, your grandparents are coming!

Don’t wallow in guilt for too long

I think it’s important to admit that I have a lot of guilt around this move. I’m walking away from a rewarding practice and a bright future in my hospital. I have a lot of patients and many colleagues who I’m going to miss. It’s also going to put my colleagues temporarily in a stressful situation as they redistribute my patients and workload.

When you face these decisions, it’s okay to feel guilty. It’s natural, to an extent. But don’t let that guilt hold you back from what you know is the right decision for your life. And don’t torture yourself too long either. Life is too short to spend your days worrying about the past. Instead, look to the future.

To sum it all up

Your mom is a badass
We’re moving across the country
Life is about to get more interesting

Love,

Dad

Do you have badass people in your life that are catalyzing changes in your life too? I want to hear about it. Comment below and subscribe below so you don’t miss another post!

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A Letter to My Mother That She Will Never Read

Dear Ma,

I am writing to reach you—even if each word I put down is one word further from where you are. I am writing to go back to the time, at the rest stop in Virginia, when you stared, horror-struck, at the taxidermy buck hanging over the soda machine by the rest rooms, your face darkened by its antlers. In the car, you kept shaking your head. I don’t understand why they would do that. Can’t they see it’s a corpse? A corpse should move on, not stay forever like that.

I am thinking, only now, about that buck’s head, its black glass eyes. How perhaps it was not the grotesque that shook you but that the taxidermy embodied a death that won’t finish, a death that dies perpetually as we walk past it to relieve ourselves. The war you lived through is long gone, but its ricochets have become taxidermy, enclosed by your own familiar flesh.

Autumn. Somewhere over Michigan, a colony of monarch butterflies, numbering more than fifteen thousand, are beginning their yearly migration south. In the span of two months, from September to November, they will move, one wing beat at a time, from southern Canada and the United States to portions of central Mexico, where they will spend the winter.

They perch among us, on chain-link fences, clotheslines still blurred from the just-hung weight of clothes, windowsills, the hood of a faded-blue Chevy, their wings folding slowly, as if being put away, before snapping once, into flight.

It only takes a single night of frost to kill off an entire generation. To live, then, is a matter of time, of timing.

I am writing because they told me to never start a sentence with because. But I wasn’t trying to make a sentence—I was trying to break free.

That time when I was five or six and, playing a prank, leapt out at you from behind the hallway door, shouting Boom! You screamed, face raked and twisted, then burst into sobs, clutching your chest as you leaned against the door, gasping. I stood, confused, my toy Army helmet tilted on my head. I was an American boy parroting what I saw on TV. I didn’t know that the war was still inside you, that there was a war to begin with, that once it enters you it never leaves—but merely echoes, a sound forming the face of your own son. Boom.

That time, in third grade, with the help of Mrs. Callahan, my E.S.L. teacher, I read the first book that I loved, a children’s book called “Thunder Cake,” by Patricia Polacco. In the story, a girl and her grandmother spot a storm brewing on the green horizon. But, instead of shuttering the windows or nailing boards on the doors, they set out to bake a cake. I was struck by this curious act, its precarious refusal of convention. As Mrs. Callahan stood behind me, her mouth at my ear, her hand on my hand, the story unfurled, the storm rolled in as she spoke, then once more as I repeated the words.

The first time you hit me, I must have been four. A hand, a flash, a reckoning. My mouth a blaze of touch.

The time I tried to teach you to read the way Mrs. Callahan taught me, my lips to your ear, my hand on yours, the words moving underneath the shadows we made. But that act (a son teaching his mother) reversed our hierarchies, and with it our identities, which, in this country, were already tenuous and tethered. After a while, after the stutters, the false starts, the words warped or locked in your throat, after failure, you slammed the book shut. I don’t need to read, you said, pushing away from the table. I can see—it’s gotten me this far, hasn’t it?

Then the time you hit me with the remote control. A bruise I would lie about to my teachers. I fell playing tag.

That time, at forty-six, when you had a sudden desire to color. Let’s go to Walmart, you said one morning. I need coloring books. For months, you filled the space between your arms with all the shades you couldn’t pronounce. Magenta, vermillion, marigold, pewter, juniper, cinnamon. Each day, for hours, you slumped over landscapes of farms, pastures, Paris, two horses on a windswept plain, the face of a girl with black hair and skin you left blank, left white. You hung them all over the house, which started to look like an elementary-school classroom. When I asked you, Why coloring, why now?, you put down the sapphire pencil and stared, dreamlike, at a half-finished garden. I just go away in it for a while, you said, but I feel everything, like I’m still here, in this room.

The time you threw the box of Legos at my head. The hardwood dotted with blood.

Have you ever made a scene, you said, filling in a Thomas Kinkade house, and then put yourself inside it? Have you ever watched yourself from behind, going deeper and deeper into that landscape, away from you?

How could I tell you that what you were describing was writing? How could I say that we, after all, are so close, the shadows of our hands merging on the page?

I’m sorry, you said, bandaging the cut on my forehead. Grab your coat. I’ll get you McDonald’s. Head throbbing, I dipped chicken tenders in ketchup as you watched. You have to get bigger and stronger, O.K.?

O.K., Ma.

The first time you came to my poetry reading. After, while the room stood and clapped, I walked back to my seat beside you. You clutched my hand, your eyes red and wet, and said, I never thought I’d live to see so many old white people clapping for my son.

I didn’t quite understand until, weeks later, I visited you at the nail salon and watched as you knelt, head bent, washing the feet of one old white woman after another.

Those Saturdays at the end of the month when, if you had money left over after the bills, we’d go to the mall. Some people dressed up to go to church or dinner parties; we dressed to go to a commercial center off an interstate. You would wake up early, spend an hour doing your makeup, put on your best sequinned black dress, your one pair of gold hoop earrings, black lamé shoes. Then you would kneel and smear a handful of pomade through my hair, comb it over.

In the egalitarian, sanitized, temperature-controlled space of the mall, isolated from the context of one’s life, one gets to reinvent one’s past, oneself. And that’s what we did. Seeing us there, a stranger couldn’t tell that we bought our groceries at the local corner store on Franklin Avenue, where the doorway was littered with used food-stamps receipts, where staples like milk and eggs cost three times more than they did in the suburbs, where the apples, wrinkled and bruised, lay in a cardboard box soaked on the bottom with pig’s blood leaking from the crate of loose pork chops in a puddle of long-melted ice.

The time with your fists, shouting in the parking lot, the bright sun etching your hair red. My arms shielding my head and face as your knuckles thunked around me.

Those Saturdays, we’d walk until, one by one, the shops pulled shut their steel gates. Then we’d make our way to the parking lot where we’d wait for the bus, our breaths floating above us, the makeup drying on your face. Our hands empty except for our hands.

Out my window this morning, just before sunrise, a deer stood in a fog so dense and bright that the second one, not too far away, looked like the unfinished shadow of the first.

You can color that in. You can call it “The History of Memory.”

Migration can be triggered by the angle of sunlight, indicating a change in season, temperature, plant life, and nourishment. Female monarchs lay eggs along the route. Every history has more than one thread, each thread a story of division. The journey takes four thousand eight hundred and thirty miles, or the length of this country. The monarchs that fly south will not make it back north. Each departure, then, is final. Only their children return; only the future revisits the past.

What is a country but a borderless sentence, a life?

That time at the Chinese butcher, you pointed to the roasted pig hanging from its hook. Its ribs are just like a person’s after they’re burned. You let out a clipped chuckle, then paused, took out your pocketbook, your brow pinched, and recounted our money.

What is a country but a life sentence?

The time with a gallon of milk. A shattering on the side of my head, then the steady white rain on the kitchen tiles.

The time at Six Flags, when you rode the Superman roller coaster with me because I was too scared to do it alone. How you threw up for hours afterward. How, in my screeching joy, I forgot to say thank you.

The time we went to Goodwill and piled the cart with items that had a yellow tag, because on that day a yellow tag meant an additional fifty per cent off. I pushed the cart and leaped on the back bar, gliding, feeling rich with our bounty of discarded treasures. It was your birthday. We were splurging. Do I look like a real American? you asked, pressing a white dress to your length. I nodded, grinning. The cart was so full by then I no longer saw what was ahead of me.

The time with the kitchen knife—the one you picked up, then put down, shaking, saying, Get out. Get out. And I ran out the door, down the black summer streets. I ran until I forgot I was ten, until my heartbeat was all I could remember of my name.

The time, in New York City, a week after uncle Phuong died, I stepped onto the uptown 2 train and saw his face, clear and round as the doors opened, looking right at me, alive. I gasped—but knew better, that it was only a man who resembled him. Still, it upended me to see what I thought I’d never see again—the features so exact, heavy jaw, open brow. His name lunged to the fore of my mouth before I caught it. Aboveground, I sat on a hydrant and called you. Ma, I saw him. Ma, I swear I saw him. I know it’s stupid but I saw Uncle on the train. I was having a panic attack. And you knew it. For a while you said nothing, then started to hum the melody to “Happy Birthday.” It was not my birthday but it was the only song you knew in English, and you kept going. And I listened, the phone pressed so close to my ear that, for the rest of the night, a red rectangle was imprinted on my cheek.

If we are lucky, the end of the sentence is where we might begin. If we are lucky, something is passed on, another alphabet written in the blood, sinew, neuron, and hippocampus; ancestors charging their kin with the silent propulsion to fly south, to turn toward the place in the narrative no one was meant to outlast.

The time, at the nail salon, I overheard you consoling a customer over her recent loss. While you painted her nails, she spoke, between tears. I lost my baby, my little girl, Julie. I can’t believe it, she was my strongest, my oldest. You nodded, your eyes sober behind your mask. It’s O.K., it’s O.K., you said, don’t cry. Your Julie, you went on, how she die? Cancer, the lady said. And in the back yard, too! She died right there in the back yard, dammit.

You put down her hand, took off your mask. Cancer. You leaned forward. My mom, too, she die from the cancer. The room went quiet. Your co-workers shifted in their seats. But what happen in back yard, why she die there?

The woman wiped her eyes, looked into your face. That’s where she lives. Julie’s my horse.

You nodded, put on your mask, and got back to painting her nails. After the woman left, you flung the mask across the room. A fucking horse? Holy shit, I was ready to go to her daughter’s grave with flowers! For the rest of the day, while you worked on one hand or another, you would look up and shout, You guys, it was a fucking horse!

The time, at fourteen, when I finally said stop. Your hand in the air, my face stinging from the first blow. Stop, Ma. Quit it. Please. I looked at you hard, the way I had learned, by then, to look into the eyes of my bullies. You turned away and, without a word, put on your wool coat and walked to the store. I’m getting eggs, you said over your shoulder, as if nothing had happened. But we both knew it was over. You’d never hit me again.

Monarchs that survived the migration passed this message down to their children. The memory of family members lost from the initial winter was woven into their genes.

When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?

The time I woke into an ink-blue hour, my head—no, the house filled with soft music. My feet on cool hardwood, I walked to your room. Your bed was empty. Ma, I said, my body still as a cut flower over the music. It was Chopin, and it was coming from the closet. The door etched in amber light, like the entrance to a place on fire. I sat outside it, listening to the overture and, underneath that, your steady breathing. I don’t know how long I was there. But at one point I went back to bed, pulled the covers to my chin until it stopped, not the song but my shaking. Ma, I said again, to no one, Come back. Come back out.

The time, while pruning a basket of green beans over the sink, you said, out of nowhere, I’m not a monster. I’m a mother.

What do we mean when we say survivor? Maybe a survivor is nothing but the last one to come home, the final monarch that lands on a branch already weighted with ghosts.

The morning closed in around us.

I put down the book. The heads of the green beans went on snapping. They thunked in the steel sink like fingers. You’re not a monster, I said.

But I lied.

What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.

I read that parents suffering from P.T.S.D. are more likely to hit their children. Perhaps there is a monstrous origin to it, after all. Perhaps to lay hands on your child is to prepare him for war, to say that to possess a heartbeat is not as simple as the heart’s task of saying yes yes yes to the body.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that, back at Goodwill, you handed me the white dress, your eyes glazed and wide. Can you read this, you said, and tell me if it’s fireproof? I searched the hem, looked at the print on the tag and, not yet able to read myself, said, Yes. Said it anyway. Yes, I lied, holding the dress up to your chin. It’s fireproof.

Days later, a neighborhood boy, riding by on his bike, would see me wearing that very dress in the front yard while you were at work. At recess, the kids would call me monster, call me freak, fairy.

Sometimes, I imagine the monarchs fleeing not winter but the napalm clouds of your youth, in Vietnam. I imagine them flying out from the blazed blasts unscathed, their tiny black-and-red wings flickering like charred debris, so that, looking up, you can no longer fathom the explosion they came from, only a family of butterflies floating in clean, cool air, their wings finally, after so many conflagrations, fireproof.

That’s so good to know, you said, staring off, stone-faced, over my shoulder, the dress held to your chest. That’s so good.

This piece was drawn from a talk that Ocean Vuong will deliver at the Smithsonian’s Asian American Literary Festival in July.

A sad letter from a mother to her adult son, which will reach the addressee too late ❗️☘️ ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)

“Hello, dear! Now they no longer write letters on paper, everyone communicates on the Internet. But I decided, as before, to write a real letter, in which there will be a piece of my soul. Why is there a particle, all the heart and all the soul that hurt so much for you, son. It’s been so long since you’ve been here, I’ve already begun to forget what you look like. I understand everything, you have a job, a responsible position, your own family. Not up to me, but still, at least call more often so that I can at least hear your voice. I’m fine. The pressure jumps a little, there are problems with the joints, but it’s all age-related, you can’t avoid it … I went to the doctor at the clinic, prescribed some medicines, vitamins, he said you need to take your health more seriously. And I really don’t want to go to the doctors, I’d rather work in the garden or berries in the forest, pick mushrooms. I have already dried mushrooms, cooked jams for your arrival. At least I would bring my grandchildren to eat natural vitamins. And then they sit in the city, and there the environment, you know, is terrible.

I’ve been looking at your childhood and teen photos more and more often. It is a pity that our father did not live to see this time, he would be very proud of you. It would seem that such a small one was recently, he was lying in a stroller, crying, asking for arms. And now it’s dad himself…

My dear son, I pray every evening for only one thing. May all be well with you and your family. I don’t need anything else. Come, please, I am waiting for you and always glad to see you.

Interesting: Disappointment in your own child: how to deal with your emotions An elderly woman, brushing away her tears, finished writing a letter to her son, put it in an envelope, sealed it. “I’ll take it to the post office in the morning,” she decided, and again reached for the album with photographs. Here they are with her husband immediately after the wedding: happy, in love, a smile all over their faces. And now Vanechka appeared, the meaning of the life of parents. There were so many sleepless nights, illnesses, school problems, teenage issues . .. But all this is so quickly forgotten, and only pleasant moments remain in the memory. A visit to the zoo, the first trip to the sea, the first five in school, bedtime stories, a strong hug from a son that makes life worth living.

And then Vanya went to university and went to study in another city. Not so far away, but he rarely visited his parents. After receiving a diploma, his career went uphill, his son began to earn good money, he bought an apartment for himself. He brought a girl to meet his parents, whom he later married. They have two sons, the house is a full bowl. They just rarely come here. The daughter-in-law does not like her mother-in-law very much, she does not like everything, although she tries to please in every possible way. The son works a lot, there is no time at all. If his mother doesn’t call, he won’t remember that they haven’t spoken for several weeks. When his father died, it took a long time for his mother to get through to Vanya. Then she told him about the death of her father, but he was on a business trip and did not come to the funeral. Loneliness covered the elderly woman, and it was not clear what she had done wrong. Why was her only son not needed? After all, she and her husband constantly traveled to their parents, until their death. And it was not by order, but at the behest of conscience, of their own free will. But, like any mother, she tried to find an excuse for her adult son, although she understood everything …

The letter came when the mother was no more. Ivan was in the gym, then the phone rang. Unknown number. A neighbor called with the terrible news. The man immediately went home, and there his wife handed him a letter. Then there was a funeral, and such a dear, beloved, caring, best mother lay breathless in a coffin. Vanya was crying bitterly like a child. Everything fell upon him: the bitterness of loss, and a burning sense of shame that he had not seen his mother for so long, had not visited, completely forgot about her. After the funeral and commemoration, he was left alone in his parents’ house. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, drank some alcohol, but remained completely sober. And then he remembered the letter, which he grabbed in a hurry, and forgot to read it.

And again Vanya was crying, sobbing, like when he was a child when he lost his mother in the park. I found albums with photographs, reviewed each picture, remembered how happy his childhood was. Parents did everything to ensure that Vanechka did not need anything. He was taken to the sea, sent to a sanatorium, bought toys, went to an ice cream parlor, spent a lot of time together. Vanya recalled how fun they celebrated the New Year, what birthdays he had: with contests, prizes, puppet theater. Only now he was thinking how much time and effort mom and dad gave to make Vanya happy. And Vanya thought that it should be so. And even when he grew up, he continued to use it, giving nothing in return.

Interesting: Excessive attachment of a child to his mother — what are the dangers He imagined how his sons would grow up. How they will live their lives and not even remember their parents. Ivan was overwhelmed by a feeling of fear. He imagined how lonely and dreary mom was alone in this house. How she waited every evening for her only son to remember, call, come.

Many years will pass, and the feeling of guilt will still gnaw at Ivan’s insides. He suddenly realizes that his mother is no more, the only person who loved him with all his heart, devotedly, selflessly, without demanding anything in return. And every time he will reproach himself that he did not call, did not come, did not help, was not there when help was needed. This will have to be lived to the end.

Congratulations to mother in prose from son. A touching letter from a mother to her sons Prose to mother birthday from son

For every inhabitant of our planet, there has never been, no, and definitely never will be a dearer person than mother. Mom is warmth, happiness, generosity, sincerity and all the brightest. My dear mom, on this birthday I wish you more bright days. Let trouble not occur in your lifetime, and tears come out only from joy.

How much we know that mother is the most precious person in the world, and how little we do to make her smile more often. How many words have already been said about my mother and how many songs have been sung about her, how many films have been made and pictures written. But I want to say the most important words that are always so hard to pronounce. Thank you. Sorry. I love. Happy Birthday Mom.

Dear Mom! Congratulations on your anniversary, we hasten to confess to you our great love. You give us care and surround us with tenderness. There is no better person in the world than you. Stay always young, beautiful and happy!

Mommy, Happy Anniversary! May the circle outlined by this date become your protection and reliably protect you from life’s adversities, and health, happiness and good luck will always be with you and never leave your circle.

On the entire vast planet there is no dearer and dearer person than mother. Mommy — you are more beautiful than a sunny day, brighter than a morning dew, more transparent than a drop in a pond, clearer than all the stars in heaven. Let the years rush, let luck sometimes bypass us, but next to you, mommy, it is always reliable, warm and cozy. I thank you for everything, my dear. Please accept my most sincere congratulations on your birthday. May your personal holiday bring you a great mood. We wish you well-being and all earthly blessings.

Dear mother, I sincerely congratulate you on a bright holiday — your birthday. I wish you good health, great happiness, a beautiful long — long life. May spring always bloom in your heart, may sparks of joy always burn in your eyes. I thank you for nurturing and blessing my life. May you never grow old for years, may luck be registered forever in your house. May your dream come true, may hope illuminate your life path.

There is no person in the world closer and dearer than mother. Maternal love is the strongest feeling in the world that helps us live on this earth. Mommy, accept my sons words of gratitude, for kindness and affection, for advice and consolation when I was feeling bad. I wish you many happy days, peace and good luck. May troubles and bad weather always bypass you. May fate send you a lot of vivacity and strength. May the brightest star illuminate your life path. May the Lord always keep you.

My dear, sweet and kind mother. I sincerely congratulate you on your birthday. Let only joy and good luck illuminate your long, long life. Good health to you, great joy and great happiness. I am grateful to you for all the sleepless nights, for all the care and tenderness that you gave me. May God grant you success in everything. May hope, faith and love be your faithful companions in life, may all your plans come true. May peace and tranquility always reign in the family. All the best to you and prosperity.

Mom, happy birthday! May the sun smile at you today, even if the shadow of sadness does not touch your face! Always remain the same open, beautiful and kind. I know that sometimes I upset you, but you always forgave me. I will never forget how much you have done for me, so I will always be there and promise to help in everything.

Happy birthday, dear mother! You always try for me, make my life happy. For you, this day is not like everyone else, so let today you have only pleasant surprises, let good people surround you, and the weather will give you warmth and light. I wish you happiness, health and long life! I really want you to never be sad!

Mom, may your birthday bring you a sea of wonderful mood. May the sun shine gently on you, may the birds sing their cheerful songs. I want to congratulate you and wish you to always remain young and beautiful. Thank you for your care, useful advice, warmth and happiness that you have been giving all these years.

Mom, please accept my sincere congratulations on your personal holiday! Let nothing overshadow your life, know that I really appreciate you for your responsibility and diligence, for your ability to love and forgive, for your desire to support in difficult times. Thanks a lot for everything! Take care of your health, may your dreams come true. Happy birthday!

Dear mother! My dearest person on earth, I congratulate you on your birthday! There is no one in the world dearer, no one can compare with you in hard work, perseverance and honesty. I want to wish you success in all your endeavors. May your dreams and wishes come true, your son is always there, your loved ones will support you in everything. Let all life’s trials remain in the past, and only bright days lie ahead.

Mom, you are the dearest person on earth to me. Your diligence, your responsiveness and kindness never have a limit. I want to wish you longevity and well-being, may there be as much simple human joy in your life as possible! May fate always be favorable to you, and good luck constantly visits your house.

Dear, sweet mother! Happy Birthday to you! I wish you eternal flowering, may love always live in your heart! I love you very much and I want your kind eyes to radiate the light of happiness, and a smile bloomed on your face. May there be more pleasant events and happy moments in your life!

Mom! You are the most dear person to my heart! And on your birthday, I sincerely wish you all the very best, long life and family happiness! You are the best on this earth, and please always remember that I love you very, very much!

Dear, beloved mother. Even though you already have (number of years), for me you are always 25! You are always cheerful and carefree in my heart, and you run with me through the meadow and laugh. Your smile is always with me, and it warms me in the most difficult moments. Thank you for having me! You lived only half a century, more than half a century we will be with you together! And I really hope that your grandchildren will be warmed by your magical smile!

Dear mother! On this bright day, your birthday, I want to wish you a long and happy life. May only joyful and happy days always be your companions in life, and I will always be with you, at any moment.

Mommy, what a glorious day it is today — your birthday! Everything around shone, became brighter and better! You know how to do so many beautiful things — and you taught me how to live and enjoy life for real. I wish you on this beautiful day to rejoice with all your heart in everything good and bright, and always remain beautiful, young and so charming! Happy birthday, beloved mother!

Dear mother! On your birthday, I want to wish you a good mood, the fragrance of your favorite flowers, cheerful smiles and happiness! You are the most indispensable person for me! Thanks for being you!

My mother, you are a fireworks person, a holiday person, a mood person, so I wish you that sparks of joy always shone in your eyes, and the southern sun shone brightly in the sky! I wish you happiness on your birthday, a peaceful sky above your head, mutual love, the fulfillment of your most cherished dream! I wish that your family adores you, your colleagues respect you, your boss appreciates you, and your clients besiege you day and night, and, of course, more money!

Dear, beloved, my only mother! Before I congratulate you on your birthday, I want to apologize. I know that you have experienced and suffered a lot because of me: sleepless nights, hard working days, gray hair, tired eyes, pain in the body and anxiety in the heart. Thank you Mommy for never stopping loving me. From now on, let your and my angels take your worries away from home, bringing peace to your soul, and your face always lights up with a smile. I love you, mommy.

Mom, this word combines the strongest love and unrealistic patience! You, my dear mother, have a birthday today! On this day, I want to apologize. Because I rarely tell you about what I love, but I really love you madly! Apologize for all the problems that you got because of me and for the fact that sometimes you had to cry because of me! Happy birthday my dear mother! I want to thank you for always being with me! And for the fact that I have the best mom! Be happy!

Mom, I want to wish you a happy birthday. You have so many good notes, so much closeness and responsiveness. You have been protecting and guiding me since childhood, protecting me from all sorts of problems, but at the same time you allow me to gain a courageous character. You know how to help me become more and more worthy of the stronger sex. I want to wish you long life and strength to withstand unexpected twists and turns. Life will surely reward you with positive emotions and a chance to realize your innermost dreams, to actively move in the chosen direction. Dear, please remain as beautiful as you are now, because you have many amazing character traits with which you decorate our world. Stay close to us, dear people, and we will always be able to cheer you up and give you additional emotions, bright colors of the family hearth.

Mommy, I want to wish you a happy birthday. You stayed up so many nights because of me, trying to provide support and show care. You swaddled me and grew up, treated me from childhood diseases. Now I have grown up, but the feelings of love and gratitude are only becoming more noticeable. Please forgive me for childish pranks and worries, but kids live too. You are the best mom, an example of an ideal woman for me. How I love you. I want to wish you that there will always be relatives and dear people who will definitely appreciate your work and rejoice at the closeness of your relationship. Let the hearth be saved forever, because I really want to know that my family and I will definitely find a nest in our apartment. I wish you happiness and harmony, success in your endeavors and positive in many areas of life. I hope that my wishes will definitely come true, despite the many “buts” of fate.

On my birthday I wish my mother, my bright angel, that life flows evenly and slowly, like a quiet river, that the clear sun always warms you, as you warm us with your warmth and endow us with vitality! I also wish you, my dear, that you only have colorful dreams, like in good cartoons, and all desires, as if by magic, are immediately fulfilled! Happiness and health to you, mommy!

In order to congratulate his mother on his birthday in an original way, each son must not only choose words, but also a beautiful gift. However, the specialists of our service will help you with the words, who have put together a lot of beautiful and non-standard congratulations that will appeal to mothers. Choose the appropriate greeting style and choose the most beautiful words right here and now! The most dear, dear and close person in the life of every man is his mother. Therefore, every son wants to congratulate his mother in the best possible way. It is necessary to add congratulatory lines spoken from the bottom of the heart to the flowers and the gift. Mom is the most important person on earth. Your words should be bright, kind, warm, in order to express your son’s love and gratitude for what your dear and dear mother has done. Our site Pozdravunchik.ru in the section of birthday greetings to mom from son will help you choose exactly those words that sometimes our mothers lack so much. Our poems, prose and SMS will help you choose the most beautiful and warm words, show your tenderness and love to your beloved mother, so that she knows that you love and appreciate her. The best reward for a mother is sons’ love.

Mom is the first word a baby says, it is the best friend, the most important person in everyone’s life. Mothers love their children from the first second of their life and throughout the whole time they invest their soul, affection and love in them. They dream of a happy future for the child and try their best to make it so. They are always there, ready to help or give advice, even sacrifice anything for the sake of their beloved baby. And warm, tender congratulations from your son on his birthday
is the least we can do to make her happy. On this wonderful day, the whole family, close friends and relatives will gather at the festive table, everyone will congratulate the birthday girl.

You can prepare a lot of surprises for your mom that will please and surprise her. Show all your talents, for example, you can perform some kind of piece of music or compose a poem, draw a beautiful picture, do something with your own hands, or buy a birthday girl what she has long dreamed of. An excellent option for this would be prose for mom. Such a festive greeting will greatly please the hero of the occasion and will remain in her memory for a long time. This will be a very touching and sweet gift. After all, she is always flattered to hear tender phrases that express sincere feelings, love, gratitude for everything she did for her child. Hearing such a toast, mommy will understand that all the efforts invested in his upbringing, care and awe were worth it and bore fruit. This will touch your mother and fill her heart with joy.

Today is the day when I thank God for giving me the best mother in the world. The one that is ready for anything, out of love for me! The one who did everything for my happiness. The one that gave me the best upbringing. Mom, forgive me for all the disagreements! I don’t have enough words to describe the love I have for you! I want your beautiful smile never to be wiped off your face! Happy birthday! You are very dear to me! I want you to never cry!

Dear, kind mother! Accept these flowers and my warm hugs on your birthday. There are not enough words to express to you all the gratitude for the sleepless nights and the kindness that you give me every moment. You are a part of my life, and without you the world would lose all its colors. I kiss your golden hands!

Dear, dear mother! Happy Birthday to you! I wish you eternal flowering, may love always live in your heart! I love you very much and I want your kind eyes to radiate the light of happiness, and a smile bloomed on your face. May there be more pleasant events and happy moments in your life!

Dear mother! Everything in this world today is for you! The sun is shining in the window, birds are singing and flowers are blooming in your honor, on your wonderful birthday! Be happy, my dear, and may joy and harmony always reign in your soul. A low bow to you for the kindness and affection that you always give me.

Dear mommy! Today, on your birthday, I want to be there and hold your warm hands in my hands! You are the ideal woman for me, the best mother in the world. I wish you to meet only good people, not to know evil and to be loved!

Mommy! How can I express in words all the gratitude for your kindness, care and affection? Instead of a thousand words, accept this bouquet as a sign of my love and respect! On your birthday, be happy, my dear, give me your smiles more often and never be upset! May peace and prosperity reign in your house, and joy and peace in your soul.

Mommy, you are my dearest person in this life! Your birthday is the most important holiday for me, because without you there would be no me in this world. I wish you good health, vivacity and spiritual strength! May every day give you inspiration and wonderful moments of happiness in the circle of grandchildren and children!

Dear and dear mother, I sincerely congratulate you on your birthday. I want to thank you for your care and attention, care and tenderness. You allow to understand the basic values of life, to make the right choice of life path. Thanks to you, I become a strong man, and this will definitely play for the benefit of me and my loved ones. I want to wish you a long life, not to get sick and not to grow old. May you always remain young and beautiful, tender and feminine, and may happiness always accompany you. Mommy, you don’t need to worry about anything, be calm and confident, because I am always ready to come to your aid and provide protection. You know, you are an example of the perfect woman for me. You deserve only the best. I, as your own son, will always be there, because I am ready for a lot to make you truly happy. Love you so much!

Dear Mom, I want to wish you a happy birthday. My congratulatory words come only from the heart. I want to thank you for my birth and the gift of life. You do so many important things for me that ordinary words cannot even convey the full power of gratitude. So many sleepless nights and important moments that allow me to become a real man. On your birthday, I want to wish you a long and truly happy life. Let your heart beat and shimmer with a beautiful melody, and let only the best be felt in your eyes. Know that you can always find support from me, because I am ready to help and protect you. Today, all your loved ones will surely gather at the festive table to warm you with attention and warm words, to show how important and dear you are.

Mommy, accept my congratulatory words as a gift on your birthday. I hope that they will also seem significant to you, will let you understand how important and dear you are to me. My dear mother, I want you to live with confidence in a wonderful future and feel calm, peaceful. May happiness always accompany you, because you really deserve it. You raise me and take care of me, and yet it requires a surprisingly lot of strength. Thank you very much for taking care of your son, even though I can be a bit of an annoyance. Remember that I am not from evil, because my boyish nature speaks in me. Find a positive in each coming day, because it promises to be special and unique. You are my gift of fate, the best mother in the whole world. I really love you immensely, mom. Happy birthday, with such an important holiday, I congratulate you.

Dear mother, I want to wish you a happy birthday. I believe that the words of my own son will certainly become the basis for gaining boundless hope for a brighter future. In addition, I am ready to take care of you, give guardianship and protection from all kinds of external factors. Mommy, I wish you a long and happy life, youth of the soul, hope of the heart. You are a beauty, because you always strive to be a well-groomed lady. Remember that beauty largely depends on the state of the soul and the sparkle of the eyes. Radiate joy and happiness, faith in a brighter future. You know, you managed to become a truly important and beloved person for me, without which it is so difficult to live a day. Therefore, I want to wish you longevity, and you, dear, in turn, take care of your health and energy. Happy birthday, a holiday that shows the value of every day lived, a wonderful future. Be happy, honey!

Mommy, you are the most kind and open, pleasant and positive person in the whole world. You know how surprising you are with your character and the ability to show resistance to childish pranks, to direct actions in the right direction. Thank you very much for your care and desire to invest sincere values and give a chance to grow up as a real man. I greatly value our family hearth, created with the help of your actions and glorious character. I want to wish you inner harmony and a better understanding of the current situation. May optimism and good mood always be with you. I wish you activity and energy that will not allow sadness to even appear. May joy always reign in your heart. I want to see you only active and happy, because this is what I want on my birthday, a truly wonderful holiday.

Letter from a mother who lost her child

A woman who lost her son in an accident wrote an appeal to other parents.

Ekaterina Sarycheva

“Many of you know that I experienced the greatest horror that befalls a mother. On June 2, I lost my son in a car accident. I was driving.

Exactly five minutes have passed since we left the gas station. I made sure all my kids were strapped in and we set off on our journey down the winding mountain road.

My son has always liked to unfasten his seat belts. He said: «I’m the Flash, I’m a superhero! The Flash never wears a seatbelt, Mom!»

We tried 5-point harnesses, boosters at various times and even fixed the harnesses with plastic ties so he wouldn’t remove them. (I know it wasn’t the best security solution.) He always viewed this as a challenge to his dexterity.

He always managed to unfasten himself. It worked out then too.

On average, I stopped three or four times per trip to strap my superhero back on.

It’s only been five minutes since my last time with him. Five minutes, when a huge boulder flew down the slope to cut us off. I had a choice: jump into the oncoming lane and survive a head-on collision with another car, turn off a cliff into a mountain river, or take a boulder on board.

I chose a boulder. I chose wrong. Yes, at that moment my son had already unbuckled his belt and started to change places with his brother. I did not know that. The stone hit the car in the wheel, and we flew off the cliff and down the slope.

Our 13-seater minibus made several somersaults and my son passed away.

Little boy, my pride, my joy left us in a matter of seconds. I remember broken windows, a broken torpedo (there were no airbags) and our 3-ton minibus upside down. I was covered in blood. The whole salon was covered in blood. I tried to get out, but lost consciousness.

Titus with mom When I woke up after some time, I began to pull all my five children out of the wrecked car. The turn came to Titus. I struggled to lift the van off his tiny body. My 8 year old son tried to help. But we couldn’t take it out from under the car. I could only see the lower half of my boy’s body. I tried to give him artificial respiration by gentle pressure on his stomach. This is all that was in my power. But he has already died.

Doctors said that he died instantly, without having time to feel pain, and this is at least some small consolation. What happened after, I remember vaguely. I only remember how I fought off the ambulance doctors until they got my dead child and let me hug him.

My surviving children were taken to the hospital and I was injected with anti-shock drugs. I spent two days on strong sedatives to get over the shock. Two days later, I saw myself in the news on Facebook (the social network was recognized as extremist and banned on the territory of the Russian Federation).

My child’s death was reported in the weather and sports news. Thank you for at least mentioning that neither alcohol nor drugs have anything to do with it.

But that wasn’t what hurt.

Readers have commented that I am a terrible mother and that I deserve all this. That my children now need to be taken away from me. I wanted to hit each of the commentators. I wanted to shake them up.

I wanted to yell that all my life, every day, every damn few minutes, I’ve been fighting for my child’s safety. I fought with him myself.

I wanted to tell them that we had a special goodnight kiss and a special day of the week to go to McDonald’s.

I wanted to tell them how he wanted to grow up and marry me because I am the best mother in the world. How he showed me the Lego boat he built before going to bed and fell asleep holding my hand with his dimpled fingers.

But no one would listen to me.

I feel the need to tell all mothers. Look each of you in the eyes and say: «Hug your children tight.» That’s all I want to say to this world.

I am not that woman anymore, death and loss changes a person.

I stopped being myself when I hugged my dead child on the highway and screamed, demanded from God that he return it to me.

— I bought the Flash costume to have my four year old boy buried in it.

— I kissed his face and his dimpled fingers before closing the coffin lid.

— I slept on his grave so that once again we would fall asleep together, as he loved. I talked to the earth with which my boy in a superhero costume is covered.

And I want to say (if you’ve read this far) to you and every other mom.

— Maybe broccoli for dinner is not as important as we used to think? Maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on stuffing healthy vegetables into them (Titus hated vegetables). Maybe let them eat, at least sometimes, only ice cream for dinner?

— Enter their world. Learn to play with them, even computer games. Enjoy their rich and fleeting imagination. Let them think of themselves as Captain America or Queen Elsa. Let them play even while eating, play along with them. The food isn’t going anywhere.

— Accept all the hugs and kisses they bring to you. Even if it’s the twenty-fifth time they get out of bed during the night. And hug them back.

— Freeze and look with them at bugs, sticks and sunsets. Stop, moms, don’t run. Slower.

— Tell them you love them. Look into their eyes and tell them how much you love them. Tell them that they can become anyone they can imagine themselves to be.

— Yes, we should teach them to be responsible, but sometimes, maybe only sometimes, is it worth turning a blind eye to their pranks? Perhaps the world will not collapse from the fact that we let them play?

— Never judge other moms. We never know the whole story. We just don’t know.

— Go and hug the children. Right now. Feel how they hug you. Remember their smell, remember their sparks in the eyes, which will disappear somewhere on the border of childhood and adulthood. Put your phone down, look at them with your own eyes, not through the screen of your mobile. Remember this feeling when your child’s head rests on your shoulder.