Hey Mom,

I wasn’t going to do this, but then I decided to do it anyway. I get to do stuff like that now, since I’m an adult. First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!  Unsure how you keep finding new ways to turn 38, but it looks good on you. I know you don’t like the internet, or people seeing your picture, but people love you, so don’t worry about it. Separately, you’re great, and people should know that.

We’re not just products of our environment. We are products of how we were raised. The older I get, the more I see my own strengths, weaknesses, and insecurities are usually tied to how I came up, and what I interpreted things to mean. But I owe you a lot this year.

You bow your head, but that’s what keeps your crown so firmly fitted in place. I don’t know how you do some of the things you do, but it’s amazing every time. I’m in actual awe of your poise, and so thankful for the grace you share with the world. Every single person you meet you give your full attention too — and you’re more memorable among some of my friends than I am. They call me to find out how you are. They call you mom, aunty, and a host of other names that carry with it the same conclusion; you touch people’s lives with how you live.

I’m scared a lot more now. It sometimes feels like everything I’ve been able to accomplish until now is irrelevant, if I can still catch a bullet for simply existing. But when you call me, I relax, and for the time we spend together talking, I know that I’m loved so fully and completely, that I’m going to be just fine, even when I don’t feel that way. Thank you for making it so undeniable that I am here for a reason, and my worth is impregnable to people’s opinions, assumptions, and actions. They can’t have that. We’re getting killed for no reason in the midst of trying to live for one. I don’t want to die mom, but you’ve taught me there are worse things than that. Not knowing you matter is chief among them. We’re not here to survive mommy. We’re going to live.

I don’t call as much as I should sometimes, and that’s my fault. I’d like to think I’m always working, but that’s neither truthful nor sustainable. Things get harder when you dream out loud. I feel like I’ve lost more friends, had falling outs, and actually felt incredible loneliness.  It uncomfortable, weird, ugly, and sometimes unbearable. But you taught me it’s part of the process.

 

Nola Flawless 2
Courtesy of the Jackson Family Archive

Late nights and early mornings are customary for you, but the thing I admire most is that you start and end your days the same exact way: with thanksgiving and gratitude. You’ve seen and experienced unspeakable pain, but you  have a source of joy so unbearable, that anyone who comes into contact with you, feels it. You make people better. That’s the kind of impact that I aspire to have. You taught me to pick up this pen (or keyboard) and say exactly what I mean –anything less is disingenuous.You should spend the latter half of your years asking when, instead of if. So, that’s what we are out here doing. You did everything you could for us, and in return, I’ll try and exponentially increase the investment.  I know that providing you with  stuff in the traditional sense isn’t that meaningful to you; experiences are more fufilling.  That’s my definition of wealth.

And you’re going back to school! I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent, but the pride I feel when you do well in class must be somehow related. I’ve always known you can do anything, because growing up you had to be everything. You’ve had to bend, but you’ve never broken, and you’ve survived things that would break most people, so this school thing won’t be a problem. It’s not supposed to be easy, but neither was coming to America (and look how that turned out). I want the same for you that you’ve always wanted for us; better options that allow you flexibility to choose how you spend your time. You’ll never retire; people with vocations don’t do that. I simply want you to be able to make decisions with different sets of variables. I only know a fraction of the price you had to pay for us to get here; so while I’m living, I’d like to even those odds out. I’m not interested in giving you the world; you can’t be bought. I just think you deserve to see more of it.

You have so many people who want to see you win.  People don’t just want your success, they want to be intimately involved. I know sometimes it’s hard to ask for help, but that’s what communities are for. People get something when they help you, you just have to let them. I need to work on that too.

I’m happy to be alive this year, but I’m equally as grateful that I came into the world on the same day you did. (I like to imagine I was a painless birth, but let’s be honest here.) Your best years are ahead of you, and I’m excited to watch you grow even more. Strong women raise strong people, and I am who I am because you’ve never quit on me. I’ll do whatever I need to see you smile more and cry less. My hope is that If it there are tears, let them be joyful eruptions than mourning.

I’ll always be your son, but I’m even more delighted to start being your friend too.

I don’t need you to be a safety net. I need you to start flying and stop worrying about what happens beneath you. You’ve always said  God got us. We got you.

Love,

Jonathan

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