Posted in Unconditional love

A Letter to Myself … Things I Hold Most Dear

If you knew that you were going to lose your memory and you could write a letter to yourself that contained the things that you most wanted to remember? What would you write? 

Here’s what I wrote last year…

If My Memory Should Ever Fail Me

If I was gifted the ability to stop time for twenty-four hours, what would I attempt to accomplish?

Without hesitation, I would spend those hours writing a letter to myself in case my memory ever betrays me, a letter I could hold in my hands, something tangible to prove that I had truly lived.

If such a letter could dislodge even a fragment of memory, it would have been worth every moment spent writing it.

I would attempt to capture…

…what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.  I would write about the relationship that I have built with Craig and what it feels like to hold his hand in mine. I would write about the soapy smell of his skin, the feel of his stubble on my cheek, and what it feels like to hear his thoughts as we drift off to sleep each night…what it is to know true contentment.

…how comforting it is to know that a promise for forever is exactly that…to know that I can breathe and just be, without worry.

…what it feels like to have chosen a man who is such an amazing father, who knows such random, yet important, things as how to do Katie’s hair, how to assemble a preschooler-friendly, healthy meal, and how to comfort Matthew when he’s teething.

…how much being a mother to Katie and Matthew fulfills me…that although I am exhausted much of the time, my heart stretches as I close each of their doors at bedtime, knowing that they are safe and happy.

…the way Katie’s gentle golden curls frame her face, how she wakes each morning full of things to say, brimming with excitement, and eager to learn what I have planned for her. I want to remember the way she smells like a mixture of Play-Doh and blueberries and the way she gleefully sings If You’re Happy and You Know It while spinning in circles on tip toes.

…the way Matthew goes limp in my arms at bedtime and how when I shush him and ask him to put his head on my shoulder, he just melts into me.  How he wraps his still baby fingers in my hair and pinches the skin under my arms.

…how it feels when Katie looks me in the eye and says, “You’re so nice, Mommy.” I pray that I remember the way she fits into me right now, how her long arms and legs wrap around me and the way her hair tickles my face when I hold her.

…that Matthew lunges for me when he catches sight of me, the weight of his soft body in my arms as I nurse him.  I long to remember the way he lights up when I do The Itsy Bitsy Spider on his belly…how his impossibly-long eyelashes flutter as he drifts off to sleep.

…that I was not me before them.

…the happiness that this life brought me…from the small things to the big things.  From the moments to weeks to months to years to a lifetime.

..the gratitude that I feel for having been given this opportunity to hold happiness in my hands and that I never took it for granted.  For even one second.

And if my memory does truly fail me, then I would hope that I could at least read this letter and be comforted by the fact that I had been a part of such a family, a family that knew joy and appreciated the smallest of moments.

My full weight

She secured the final yellow elder flower in my hair, handed me my simple, yet glorious bouquet, walked me to the beginning of the path, and wished me luck, her voice like golden honey, thick with her melodious West Indies accent.

“I wish you tremendous joy…” she pronounced, her hands warm and kind, her eyes clear and deep.

I started down the path, alone, fatherless, joyfully anticipating all that awaited me.

Even before I saw him waiting for me, I could sense his radiant love.  I could feel his joy at my slow approach.

I knew he would be there.

I knew he would always be there.

With each step I took, the satin of my white dress slid across my bare legs, whooshing and gently grazing the sandy ground, shifting ever so gently beneath my golden shoes, just as my present and my future solidified before me.

The air was heavy with moisture. The sun shone overhead in a sky so blue it rivaled the ethereal, glistening sea, which sat directly in front of me.

I stepped forward…each step I had taken in my life, every ache, every loss, had brought me closer to him…to this very moment.

From this moment on, every joy, every failure, would be wrapped in his love and support, buffered by his love.

The heady scent of plumeria carried me past the last turn in my path.

He stood at the end of the winding path, his golden face lit with love and anticipation.

Though my feet continued, my mind paused…caught in that moment…hoping to etch that feeling in my mind, memory, and heart. Hoping to always remember what it felt like to have someone look at me with such adoration, with acceptance that knows no bounds.

He waited. For me.

No guests. Just the two of us. The way we had begun, the way we needed it to be.

For the first time in my life, I knew that I was part of a whole.

I could set down my worries and lean with my full weight into true and unconditional love. I could stumble and fall without fear of losing everything. I could stop being the one who things happened to and I could start making my own life happen.  Making our life happen.  Together.

I stepped forward to a place of acceptance, safety, and unconditional love.

I stepped foward.

Into us.


Photos? Well, of course, I have photos…

This post is linked up with the Red Dress Club’s memoir prompt, which asked: “imagine that after you have died and your daughter/son will be given the gift of seeing a single five-minute period of your life through your eyes, feeling and experiencing those moments as you did when they occurred. What five minutes would you have him/her see? Tell us about them in the finest detail.”

An Anniversary Letter of Love

Happy Anniversary, Babe.

These past five years have been the happiest and fullest of my life.

My world is a beautiful place because of you…because of this love that you have given me.

Thank you for sharing with me your positive outlook on life.  When I grow panicky and full of anxiety, you calm and soothe me.  When I feel that things are bigger than I am, you are always there, holding my hand, showing me that together we can handle anything in our path.

Thank you for the security that you offer me.  Your stable, calm nature brings precious peace to my world.  Few things feel better than falling asleep at night, knowing that you are always there for me.

Thank you for your sense of  humor.  So often, I grow focused on the bumps in the road.  I love that you tell me jokes that are so long that it takes you eleventy years to get to the punchline, because by the time you’re done, I can’t remember what was even plaguing me in the first place.

Thank you for remaining endlessly patient with me.  I am indeed a work in progress.  I appreciate your ability to look at me and know that although I am imperfect, my strengths outnumber my weaknesses.

Thank you for truly loving me unconditionally.  The knowledge that even when I stumble and fall, you are there to pick me up, brush me off, and hold me close, is undoubtedly one of the lovelist gifts ever given to me.

Thank you for supporting me and pushing me further than I think I can possibly go.  Thank you for acknowledging that being a mother and wife is just a part of who I am and for encouraging me to be Nichole, the writer, the woman, the individual.

Thank you for Katie.  She is magic and wonder.  She is you.  She is me.  I suspect that even if I thank you every day for the rest of my life, I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude to you for helping me to become a mother.

Thank you for Matthew, the sweet boy that I didn’t realize I even wanted.  Thank you for holding my hand when we found out that we were having a boy and for assuring me that he was going to bring amazing things to our world.  You were patient with me and you were so incredibly wise.  He and his sister fill my heart with such tremendous happiness and joy that it nearly explodes with love.

Thank you for promising me forever and for being ever-willing to do the work necessary to keep our marriage strong.

Thank you for investing in our marriage every single day.  Whether it’s bringing me my coffee in the morning, calling me during the day to tell me a funny story, or sharing a beer with me in the evening, you know exactly how to make me feel connected to you.

Thank you for being you and thank you for the gift of your love.

I am beyond blessed to call you my husband and my very best friend.

I love you.

About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
More about Nichole
  • @NicholeBeaudryon Twitter
  • Nichole on Pinterest
  • Nichole on Instagram
  • Nichole on Facebook
  • Nichole on LinkedIn
  • Subscribe to this site's RSS
  • Contact this author

I also write at

all Parenting
She Knows Parenting

Instagram photos