I Hope He Remembers Me

I am not a good mother. It's true. I lose my patience too easily and I raise my voice more often than necessary. I complain about my motherly duties and say "I give up" more than I care to admit. Nathaniel is deeply loved and dearly cared for. But he does not have the best mother he deserves.

And so I hope that when Nathaniel grows up and thinks of me, I hope he thinks of the time I took him to the farm to pick strawberries. I hope he remembers driving to the "forest" (SC state road). I hope he remembers laughing as I pretend to slip in the mud. I hope he remembers how I "saved" him when the bug started crawling off the leaf and onto his hand. I hope he remembers me letting him play in the mud. And I hope he remembers me holding his hand.

I pray that when my son thinks of me, he chooses to remember moments like this day.