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Fri Dec 23 09:30:05 2016
Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2016 09:08:34 -0500
From: "Amazon Members" <amazon_members@myholidaygiftsusa.com>
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We'll offer you an exclusive reward worth over $50 - HOLIDAY SPECIAL
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Or Write To:
PO Box 971, Reno, NV 89504
or
1720 S Hill rd Timmonsville Sc 29161-7831
I have a son. I can't always talk to him, so I write him letters. I've been=
doing so since he was a baby. He's an adult now. Whether you have a son or=
daughter, my advice to you is to be honest and bare your soul. Write your =
child a letter if you are unable to talk. Writing is therapeutic! My Last L=
etter to My Son My TRUE TALE for today is a bit unique, because it involves=
me writing a letter to my son, whom I re-connected with in 2013 after bein=
g estranged from him for about three years. We are currently =C3=A2=E2=82=
=AC=E2=80=9C and still =C3=A2=E2=82=AC=E2=80=9C strengthening our relations=
hip (YAY!) and I obtained his permission to publish this on my blog. FYI, h=
e's now 26. (I update this post from time to time=C3=A2=E2=82=AC=C2=A6) =C3=
=B0=C5=B8=CB=9C=E2=80=B0 I have written my son many letters and poems over =
the years, and I wrote this letter after reading I Will Never Forget, a mem=
oir by Elaine C. Pereira. Elaine not only guest posted on this blog on a Fe=
atured Friday, but let me interviewe her, too. She touched me deeply with h=
er book. In fact, this memoir
inspired me in ways that I can't even begin to explain. It was that moving.=
(In fact, at the end of this post, I share my review of this book with you=
) So now, I am putting together a book of letters to my son! My Son Has Gi=
ven ME Life As most of you already know, I would not be here on this comput=
er today, were it not for my son. If you haven't already, you can read abou=
t this whole experience here: Part One: My True Story About How I Nearly Di=
ed (this is the story that became part of a memoir anthology) Part Two: How=
Re-uniting With My Son Impacted My Life For now, here's my most recent let=
ter to my son. I'm really looking forward to your comments, too. A Letter T=
o My Son Dear Julian, I may not have been a perfect mom, but I tried to be.=
I may not have disciplined you enough, or maybe I disciplined you too much=
I don't really know. I know at times, I drove you nuts! I fed you and bat=
hed you and clothed you. I bought you toys. I sang to you, read to you, tau=
ght you. You
were my boy, my precious, baby boy. I got up with you to send you to school=
I stroked your forehead and hair when you were sick. I knew you were not =
feeling well, because you let me do these things. You were never very cuddl=
y. I paid for heat to keep you warm. I stared at you for days, after you we=
re born. I didn't want to miss anything. I adored you. I kept you safe. I k=
ept you clean. I soothed you when you cried. I let you stay up late and wat=
ch TV. Do you know that you mean the world to me? I argued with you as you =
grew. You formed opinions of your own. I tried teaching you right from wron=
g, and to treat others with respect. I hugged you and kissed you at least t=
hree times a day, every day. You couldn't leave for school without a hug an=
d kiss. Remember greeting each other after school, or hugging and kissing m=
e good-night? I wanted to correct the behaviours of my parents, who were, a=
nd still are, non-demonstrative. I told you "I love you" constantly, daily,=
always,
because I do. I love you. I love you! When you were two, I wrote you a song=
I made it up on the spot, while brushing your teeth, to distract you. You=
were always so active and wiggly. Keeping still for those few minutes requ=
ired drastic measures! I wrote down the lyrics, and eventually put it to mu=
sic. I now sing it to your little cousins. I supported you in most of the d=
ecisions you made. I encouraged you to be great. When you were thirteen or =
fourteen and wanted to come home (drunk?) after fighting with your friends =
one night during a sleepover way across town, I refused to pay for a cab, e=
ven though I told you I'd always be there for you, because I wanted to teac=
h you a lesson about consequences. You learned it, too. Remember? You never=
let yourself get in a predicament like that again. When you were on the hi=
gh school football team, I went to your games. Even though I wrapped myself=
in a blanket, I still froze and felt the freezing effects of the wind whip=
ping through my
bones and at my face as I sat on the bleachers, while you worked up a sweat=
on the field. I tried to be the best single mother I could be to you, my o=
nly child. I sacrificed aspects of my life to enhance yours. I did this man=
y times, for many years. I loved you from the moment I felt you inside my b=
elly, flailing your tiny arms. When you lost your teeth, I became the Tooth=
Fairy. I was Santa and the Easter Bunny, too. You never knew, until I told=
you. I dressed you up on Halloween, and took you out trick-or-treating, be=
cause that's what good moms do. Do you recall our ritual of checking the ca=
ndy when we got home, to make sure it was safe? I didn't want anyone to poi=
son you, or slip a razor or another sharp fragment into your goodies. Remem=
ber how we avoided the pedophile's place? You may recall it as "the bad hou=
se." I did everything in my power to protect you. Each time we had to move =
from one apartment to another, I made endless preparations to ensure a seam=
less
transition. I explained things to you, preparing you the best that I could =
for what was to come. I wanted you to feel secure. As an adult, you said yo=
u were. Yet you pretended not to know me one day when we were walking downt=
own, shopping, until you wanted something. I understood. I was hurt, but I =
got that it wasn't cool to be walking with your mom. I forgave you and admi=
red you for exerting some of your independence. You had a fit when I joked =
around and pretended not to know you! You say you don't remember that incid=
ent, but I do. Clearly. It was your first rejection of me. At a young age, =
I taught you to do laundry. You were in charge of socks. You had fun matchi=
ng them. As you grew, you graduated to face cloths, underwear, and towels. =
You were a big help, you know. I was surprised when you refused to let me l=
aunder your teenage clothes, and was impressed with the excellent care you =
took, and still take, with your wardrobe. I've never seen anyone iron like =
you! When you
trusted me to sew the holes, I felt needed again. I loved those moments, ev=
en though I hate sewing! Because I have eating and weight issues, and have =
had them all my life, I never wanted you to gain an extra ounce. Ridicule a=
nd self-loathing were not things you were going to experience! The healthy =
habits you formed early on in life have helped you become the strong, young=
man you are today. Do you still prefer yogurt over ice cream? Apples over =
potato chips? Granola bars over chocolate bars? I think you do. You go to t=
he gym enough! You do it faithfully, too, and I'm so proud. You've worked l=
ong and hard for your muscles, your abs, your rock-hard body, seemingly mad=
e of steel. Remember our little, plastic, red, first-aid kit? My heart swel=
led when you told me you brought one to the beach and when you went camping=
(or was it hiking?) with those two girls. Your foresight and sensibility a=
stonishes me. Maybe I wasn't perfect, but I tried hard to be the best singl=
e mom I could
be. I was still a teenager when I had you. I was only twice your age once. =
I was 18 and in pain, physically, when you were forced into this world. I w=
as 36 and in pain, mentally. You were 18 then. I remember, too, how crazy I=
was. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know I put you through hell. When =
I almost lost my leg and had to undergo major surgery to save it, our roles=
were reversed and you took good care of me. Did I ever tell you how gratef=
ul I was? Let me remind you, I still am. When you were six and came home wi=
th a "D is for Daddy" father's day card, you questioned me. After our conve=
rsation, I questioned you, asking you what you would rather have: a daddy w=
ho always yelled and hurt us or a mommy who loved you with all her heart. "=
I just want you, Mom," was your response. I'll never forget that, as long a=
s live. I just want you, son, too. I just want you. I love, and always will=
love, you. You'll be my baby forever, even though you are a grown man now.=
I hope I will
always recognize your face and your voice. A book I read recently about one=
woman's struggles with dementia has prompted me to write and share this. I=
t touched me in explicable ways. The book? "I Will Never Forget." I want yo=
u to know my feelings and thoughts while I can still communicate them. I ne=
ver want you to wonder how I felt, or have unanswered questions. You are my=
single-most biggest achievement. I kept us both alive despite a huge lack =
of money to do so. I may have gambled, done drugs, and a few other things y=
ou hate me for, but I did try to be a good mother to you, and for you, as w=
ell as a friend. I'm not perfect, but I love you. Please, always remember t=
hat. Don't forget me, son, when I am gone. Maybe through my writing, I'll l=
ive on. Now, it's your turn to be a good son. Love always, Your unsettled M=
om. A Funny Follow-up Funny story =C3=A2=E2=82=AC=E2=80=9C I now spend most=
of my Tuesdays with my son. On one particular Tuesday evening, he showed m=
e a sweater he bought. He had ripped
the tag/label out, because it was causing him to itch. I'm sure you can gue=
ss what happened=C3=A2=E2=82=AC=C2=A6 he was left with two gaping holes as =
a result. The shocker, however, is what he said to me. Instead of simply as=
king me to sew them, he asked me, "Mom, can you teach me how to sew?" So I =
did. I demonstrated how to sew and fixed one of the holes. He ended up sewi=
ng the other. I was so proud of him! =C3=B0=C5=B8=E2=84=A2=E2=80=9A I thoug=
ht about the part I wrote in the letter to him, about sewing, and how it ma=
de me feel needed. I felt a sense of pride, though, after we were done, bec=
ause I had empowered him with knowledge so that he could solve his own sewi=
ng problems in the future. That I still felt needed was weird, and new, for=
me; I thought he didn't need me anymore. As it turns out, he still needs m=
e, but in different ways. It's great to feel needed and wanted, especially =
after all of the rough patches we have been through. The best part is that =
we're now in a healthy relationship. Finally. And I hope it
never changes=C3=A2=E2=82=AC=C2=A6 (unless it gets even better!) My Inspira=
tion to Write Letters to Julian Came from A Book I want to let you know tha=
t I'm currently putting together a book of letters to my son, called Letter=
s to Julian. I hope to release it in 2017. I'd like for you to follow both =
this and my author website so that you can learn when it is done. I also wa=
nt to share my review of I Will Never Forget, which I've already posted to =
Goodreads and Amazon for readers to discover: I Will Never Forget is Elaine=
Pereira's beautiful yet heart-wrenching tribute to her mother. Never befor=
e have I read a memoir, and I was impressed with the light manner in which =
this story was written. Infused with humour, the author makes the most out =
of a difficult situation, making her book enjoyable to read despite the hea=
rtbreaking tale she tells. Keep a box of tissues handy =C3=A2=E2=82=AC=E2=
=80=9C you'll need them! I teared up many times while reading the author's =
touching words, and was bawling when I read the final one.
The poem written by the author, found at the end of the book, warmed my hea=
rt. It was lovely! Through the author, the reader gets to know her family, =
and is able to identify with them as memories are related and glimpses into=
the author's personal struggles are revealed. The style in which this book=
is written provides pieces of the puzzle that many sufferers of dementia f=
ace, and the reader can both commiserate with and find compassion for Elain=
e, the author, a feisty, spunky woman who truly did all she could for her w=
onderful mother while she was alive. I'm sure Betty (Elaine's mom) looking =
down from heaven on her only daughter with great pride and a smile on her f=
ace. I would be, if I were her! I highly recommend this book. I Will Never =
Forget will touch you in ways you cannot imagine or fathom. You will defini=
tely not regret reading it. Besides, shedding a few (or more) tears is alwa=
ys good for the soul.
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<td align=3D"center"> <a href=3D"http://www.myholidaygiftsusa.com/b6f8x6s1jz2l1qnvkLX-dhVtFMuKmji10hvV0ONW709/flights-negligence"><img src=3D"=
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elected to take part in our</span></strong></td>
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<td align=3D"center"> <a href=3D"http://www.myholidaygiftsusa.com/b6f8x6s1jz2l1qnvkLX-dhVtFMuKmji10hvV0ONW709/flights-negligence"> <img src=3D"=
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<td align=3D"center"> <span style=3D"font-size:30px; font-weight:=
bold; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; "> We'll offer you an excl=
usive reward worth over $50 - HOLIDAY SPECIAL</span></td>
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<td align=3D"center"> <a href=3D"http://www.myholidaygiftsusa.com/b6f8x6s1jz2l1qnvkLX-dhVtFMuKmji10hvV0ONW709/flights-negligence" style=3D"font-size:20=
px; color:#FFF; background-color:#090; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, san=
s-serif; padding:10px; -webkit-border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px;=20
border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px; text-decoration:none; ">REDEEM YOUR CA=
RD BEFORE CHRISTMAS </a> </td>
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<td align=3D"center"> <a href=3D"http://www.myholidaygiftsusa.com/b6f8x6s1jz2l1qnvkLX-dhVtFMuKmji10hvV0ONW709/flights-negligence" style=3D"font-size:50=
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r:#FFF; "> Get Started </a></td>
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px; ">Here to stop this</a><br /><span style=3D"font-size:10px; color:#090=
; "> Or Write To:<br /> PO Box 971, Reno, NV 89504 <br /> or <br /> 1720 S =
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t: 0.5px; font-family: Palatino,'Palatino Linotype','Palatino LT STD','Book=
Antiqua',Georgia,serif; padding-right: none; margin-top: 0px !important; "=
> I have a son. I can't always talk to him, so I write him letters. I've be=
en doing so since he was a baby. He's an adult now. Whether you have a son =
or daughter, my advice to you is to be honest and bare your soul. Write you=
r child a letter if you are unable to talk. Writing is therapeutic! My Last=
Letter to My Son My TRUE TALE for today is a bit unique, because it involv=
es me writing a letter to my son, whom I re-connected with in 2013 after be=
ing estranged from him for about three years. We are currently â?? an=
d still â?? strengthening our relationship (YAY!) and I obtained his =
permission to publish this on my blog. FYI, he's now 26. (I update this pos=
t from time to timeâ?¦) ð??? I have written my son many le=
tters and poems over the years, and I wrote this letter after reading I Wil=
l Never Forget, a memoir by Elaine C. Pereira. Elaine not only guest posted=
on this blog on a Featured Friday, but let me interviewe her, too. She tou=
ched me deeply with her book. In fact, this memoir inspired me in ways that=
I can't even begin to explain. It was that moving. (In fact, at the end of=
this post, I share my review of this book with you.) So now, I am putting =
together a book of letters to my son! My Son Has Given ME Life As most of y=
ou already know, I would not be here on this computer today, were it not fo=
r my son. If you haven't already, you can read about this whole experience =
here: Part One: My True Story About How I Nearly Died (this is the story th=
at became part of a memoir anthology) Part Two: How Re-uniting With My Son =
Impacted My Life For now, here's my most recent letter to my son. I'm reall=
y looking forward to your comments, too. A Letter To My Son Dear Julian, I =
may not have been a perfect mom, but I tried to be. I may not have discipli=
ned you enough, or maybe I disciplined you too much. I don't really know. I=
know at times, I drove you nuts! I fed you and bathed you and clothed you.=
I bought you toys. I sang to you, read to you, taught you. You were my boy=
, my precious, baby boy. I got up with you to send you to school. I stroked=
your forehead and hair when you were sick. I knew you were not feeling wel=
l, because you let me do these things. You were never very cuddly. I paid f=
or heat to keep you warm. I stared at you for days, after you were born. I =
didn't want to miss anything. I adored you. I kept you safe. I kept you cle=
an. I soothed you when you cried. I let you stay up late and watch TV. Do y=
ou know that you mean the world to me? I argued with you as you grew. You f=
ormed opinions of your own. I tried teaching you right from wrong, and to t=
reat others with respect. I hugged you and kissed you at least three times =
a day, every day. You couldn't leave for school without a hug and kiss. Rem=
ember greeting each other after school, or hugging and kissing me good-nigh=
t? I wanted to correct the behaviours of my parents, who were, and still ar=
e, non-demonstrative. I told you "I love you" constantly, daily, =
always, because I do. I love you. I love you! When you were two, I wrote yo=
u a song. I made it up on the spot, while brushing your teeth, to distract =
you. You were always so active and wiggly. Keeping still for those few minu=
tes required drastic measures! I wrote down the lyrics, and eventually put =
it to music. I now sing it to your little cousins. I supported you in most =
of the decisions you made. I encouraged you to be great. When you were thir=
teen or fourteen and wanted to come home (drunk?) after fighting with your =
friends one night during a sleepover way across town, I refused to pay for =
a cab, even though I told you I'd always be there for you, because I wanted=
to teach you a lesson about consequences. You learned it, too. Remember? Y=
ou never let yourself get in a predicament like that again. When you were o=
n the high school football team, I went to your games. Even though I wrappe=
d myself in a blanket, I still froze and felt the freezing effects of the w=
ind whipping through my bones and at my face as I sat on the bleachers, whi=
le you worked up a sweat on the field. I tried to be the best single mother=
I could be to you, my only child. I sacrificed aspects of my life to enhan=
ce yours. I did this many times, for many years. I loved you from the momen=
t I felt you inside my belly, flailing your tiny arms. When you lost your t=
eeth, I became the Tooth Fairy. I was Santa and the Easter Bunny, too. You =
never knew, until I told you. I dressed you up on Halloween, and took you o=
ut trick-or-treating, because that's what good moms do. Do you recall our r=
itual of checking the candy when we got home, to make sure it was safe? I d=
idn't want anyone to poison you, or slip a razor or another sharp fragment =
into your goodies. Remember how we avoided the pedophile's place? You may r=
ecall it as "the bad house." I did everything in my power to prot=
ect you. Each time we had to move from one apartment to another, I made end=
less preparations to ensure a seamless transition. I explained things to yo=
u, preparing you the best that I could for what was to come. I wanted you t=
o feel secure. As an adult, you said you were. Yet you pretended not to kno=
w me one day when we were walking downtown, shopping, until you wanted some=
thing. I understood. I was hurt, but I got that it wasn't cool to be walkin=
g with your mom. I forgave you and admired you for exerting some of your in=
dependence. You had a fit when I joked around and pretended not to know you=
! You say you don't remember that incident, but I do. Clearly. It was your =
first rejection of me. At a young age, I taught you to do laundry. You were=
in charge of socks. You had fun matching them. As you grew, you graduated =
to face cloths, underwear, and towels. You were a big help, you know. I was=
surprised when you refused to let me launder your teenage clothes, and was=
impressed with the excellent care you took, and still take, with your ward=
robe. I've never seen anyone iron like you! When you trusted me to sew the =
holes, I felt needed again. I loved those moments, even though I hate sewin=
g! Because I have eating and weight issues, and have had them all my life, =
I never wanted you to gain an extra ounce. Ridicule and self-loathing were =
not things you were going to experience! The healthy habits you formed earl=
y on in life have helped you become the strong, young man you are today. Do=
you still prefer yogurt over ice cream? Apples over potato chips? Granola =
bars over chocolate bars? I think you do. You go to the gym enough! You do =
it faithfully, too, and I'm so proud. You've worked long and hard for your =
muscles, your abs, your rock-hard body, seemingly made of steel. Remember o=
ur little, plastic, red, first-aid kit? My heart swelled when you told me y=
ou brought one to the beach and when you went camping (or was it hiking?) w=
ith those two girls. Your foresight and sensibility astonishes me. Maybe I =
wasn't perfect, but I tried hard to be the best single mom I could be. I wa=
s still a teenager when I had you. I was only twice your age once. I was 18=
and in pain, physically, when you were forced into this world. I was 36 an=
d in pain, mentally. You were 18 then. I remember, too, how crazy I was. I'=
m sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know I put you through hell. When I almost=
lost my leg and had to undergo major surgery to save it, our roles were re=
versed and you took good care of me. Did I ever tell you how grateful I was=
? Let me remind you, I still am. When you were six and came home with a &qu=
ot;D is for Daddy" father's day card, you questioned me. After our con=
versation, I questioned you, asking you what you would rather have: a daddy=
who always yelled and hurt us or a mommy who loved you with all her heart.=
"I just want you, Mom," was your response. I'll never forget tha=
t, as long as live. I just want you, son, too. I just want you. I love, and=
always will love, you. You'll be my baby forever, even though you are a gr=
own man now. I hope I will always recognize your face and your voice. A boo=
k I read recently about one woman's struggles with dementia has prompted me=
to write and share this. It touched me in explicable ways. The book? "=
;I Will Never Forget." I want you to know my feelings and thoughts whi=
le I can still communicate them. I never want you to wonder how I felt, or =
have unanswered questions. You are my single-most biggest achievement. I ke=
pt us both alive despite a huge lack of money to do so. I may have gambled,=
done drugs, and a few other things you hate me for, but I did try to be a =
good mother to you, and for you, as well as a friend. I'm not perfect, but =
I love you. Please, always remember that. Don't forget me, son, when I am g=
one. Maybe through my writing, I'll live on. Now, it's your turn to be a go=
od son. Love always, Your unsettled Mom. A Funny Follow-up Funny story &aci=
rc;?? I now spend most of my Tuesdays with my son. On one particular Tuesda=
y evening, he showed me a sweater he bought. He had ripped the tag/label ou=
t, because it was causing him to itch. I'm sure you can guess what happened=
â?¦ he was left with two gaping holes as a result. The shocker=
, however, is what he said to me. Instead of simply asking me to sew them, =
he asked me, "Mom, can you teach me how to sew?" So I did. I demo=
nstrated how to sew and fixed one of the holes. He ended up sewing the othe=
r. I was so proud of him! ð??? I thought about the part I wrote in the =
letter to him, about sewing, and how it made me feel needed. I felt a sense=
of pride, though, after we were done, because I had empowered him with kno=
wledge so that he could solve his own sewing problems in the future. That I=
still felt needed was weird, and new, for me; I thought he didn't need me =
anymore. As it turns out, he still needs me, but in different ways. It's gr=
eat to feel needed and wanted, especially after all of the rough patches we=
have been through. The best part is that we're now in a healthy relationsh=
ip. Finally. And I hope it never changesâ?¦ (unless it gets ev=
en better!) My Inspiration to Write Letters to Julian Came from A Book I wa=
nt to let you know that I'm currently putting together a book of letters to=
my son, called Letters to Julian. I hope to release it in 2017. I'd like f=
or you to follow both this and my author website so that you can learn when=
it is done. I also want to share my review of I Will Never Forget, which I=
've already posted to Goodreads and Amazon for readers to discover: I Will =
Never Forget is Elaine Pereira's beautiful yet heart-wrenching tribute to h=
er mother. Never before have I read a memoir, and I was impressed with the =
light manner in which this story was written. Infused with humour, the auth=
or makes the most out of a difficult situation, making her book enjoyable t=
o read despite the heartbreaking tale she tells. Keep a box of tissues hand=
y â?? you'll need them! I teared up many times while reading the auth=
or's touching words, and was bawling when I read the final one. The poem wr=
itten by the author, found at the end of the book, warmed my heart. It was =
lovely! Through the author, the reader gets to know her family, and is able=
to identify with them as memories are related and glimpses into the author=
's personal struggles are revealed. The style in which this book is written=
provides pieces of the puzzle that many sufferers of dementia face, and th=
e reader can both commiserate with and find compassion for Elaine, the auth=
or, a feisty, spunky woman who truly did all she could for her wonderful mo=
ther while she was alive. I'm sure Betty (Elaine's mom) looking down from h=
eaven on her only daughter with great pride and a smile on her face. I woul=
d be, if I were her! I highly recommend this book. I Will Never Forget will=
touch you in ways you cannot imagine or fathom. You will definitely not re=
gret reading it. Besides, shedding a few (or more) tears is always good for=
the soul. </p> =20
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