I began writing regular letters to Bar when I was pregnant. I thought it important for him to one day read some of my words, written in my own hand and, perhaps, have a little insight into who I am now. It occurred to me that I might need the reminder as well in the coming years (decades!). I was diligent about these letters, a happy semi-nightly activity that I looked forward to at the end of the day. And then, it seemed, life got busy, Bar stopped sleeping and started going, going, going. Before tonight, my last letter to him dated 12/06/09 reads;
My son, my darling - it is 4:45 AM. Sleep. Please. Sleep. That is all.
I love you.
And so it is that my days and nights have passed until tonight.
Here is the text of the first letter I have written to Bar in nearly 9 months.
You can't know, I think, how much I love you. These few months have been exhausting. It's been almost, nay, it's been more than a year since you've slept more than six hours at a stretch. I've missed so many letters I wanted to write to you for sheer exhaustion. But these notes are not obligations to you - they're a record of my voice, such as it is, for you to read one day and, perhaps, know your mother better.
I think you may like to know about the many nights, after you go to sleep, how much time I spend looking at photos/videos of you. You're not in bed an hour before I miss you (even if I wish you wouldn't wake up for hours). Tonight, I am listening to a song called "Nothing" by Steve Foxbury. This is the chorus; 'There's nothing I'd rather do, Than anything, I do with you'
It's completely true, dear child. Though it may come far too early, I am so excited for tomorrow. Can't wait.
I love you.