Since you were born you’ve heard countless times about how much you’re like your dad. You do resemble him quite a bit, so much so that I’m still not sure any of my DNA exists in your body. You are stubborn like your dad, and you have a tendency to break down most ideas to their lowest common denominator like him, too. You have many of his good sides and a few of his bad, just like any child of any parent. It’s the little nuances that are uniquely you, the subtle differences between you and your dad, that I cherish most. They make you the awesome boy I’ve loved since you were but a twinkle in my eye.
I want you to know that I see you. I see you below that cold demeanor you wear like a shield. I know that somewhere under it beats a warm and loving heart. I’ve seen it a few times when I was hurt or you were scared. I’ve seen it when you’re with your friends and their birthdays roll around or one of them truly needs a friend. You are there for the people you love when they really need it most. It’s that quality that makes you a treasure to anyone privileged enough to call you friend.
I see you when you are hurt and you try to hide it. You get crabby and argumentative and that’s how I know that something is wrong. You play things close to the vest, never revealing too much, always guarded. I know it sucks that I know this about you, but, what can I say? I’m your mom. You and I have instruction manuals that are cosmically linked, a cord that ties us forever, unbreakable. Because of this, and because I love you, I hurt when you hurt. My heart breaks when your heart breaks. When I see those brown eyes of yours begin to tear up, my own overflow. There’s no fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and make it all go away.
I see you as you grow up, each day morphing a little more into the man you were meant to be. I am constantly surprised by the changes I see. Where once stood my cute little boy, so small and curious beyond measure, now stands a tall, handsome fellow asking grown up questions about adult subjects. Every once in a while I catch a glimpse of my wide-eyed little boy hiding in the shadows of your semi-adult self, glinting like the treasure only I can see.
I see you, Jimmy. I see all the curiosity from when you were a little boy. I see the stubbornness and the independence that you exhibit now. I see the potential in your grown up self. I see the awesomeness that is you.
And I couldn’t be more proud.
Just know, on this Valentine’s Day, that you are so very loved.
Not because you look and act like Dad.
Because you are uniquely you–a masterpiece that I am proud to call son.