Dear Rayray, lest I get lazy.

I have been writing to you since you were in my womb.
Then you came out, and I talked to you in person.
Soon the fatigue set in; and I felt myself changing into someone I didn't think I'd become.
Sometimes good, other times not so much.
But still I hope you'll love me just the same.
I still catch myself asking the universe if I was really meant to become your nanay.
How am I doing?
Am I failing? Do I meet your expectations?
If you evaluated me like a boss did, how would I fare?

So many curious thoughts run in my head. Most of them I try to hush as soon as they start.
But no other means of asking them to lay down and just die comes close to how your hug melts away all the doubts.

I know I may not be the best there is. But please know I'm trying. Hard.
And that there's nothing in the world I'd rather be than your mother.

I thank God for you.
Thank you for bringing your boisterous laughter and Beatles/Rumba-loving heart into our lives.

love,
Nanay