For Lewis on your 20th birthday….
Lewis,
I’ve been sat here staring at an empty screen all morning trying to find the words to share with you on your 20th birthday. Just writing that down seems completely ridiculous when you were just born, just took your first steps, said your first word and threw those chubby arms around my neck. Twenty. Two entire decades of being your Mum, of watching you grow, of the very happiest and the very saddest times imaginable, twenty years of you – my baby boy.
It’s funny to think that I wasn’t much older than you are now when I first became your Mum, I look at you sometimes and realise just how young and naive I must have been. I read something a while ago which said your first born child is the one you grow up with, who experiences all of your mistakes and teaches you all you need to know, and that couldn’t be more true for you and I. As much as I have spent the last twenty years watching you reach each of your milestones, in turn you have watched me reach each of mine.
From that 12 week old baby in my arms on your Dad and I’s wedding day to that confused 2 year old who gripped my hand as we lowered your brothers coffin into the ground, you have never once left my side. From that chubby faced 4 year old who slept beside me through my divorce to that mischievous 6 year old who met Gaz for the first time, you only ever wanted what was best for me. From that proud 7 year old who rushed to the hospital to meet Eva to the beaming 8 year old who served as best man at our wedding, you took it all in your stride. From the proud 9 year old who held Megan for the first time in NICU to the football mad 10 year old who met Harry 12 months later, you loved each of us unconditionally. Every happy moment, every heartbreak, every decision I got wrong and every day I got right, you were right there championing me on. For the last 20 years you have been my biggest constant, my biggest motivation, and my biggest teacher through it all. I hope one day when you’re as old as I am now, you will look back and know that I always tried my best and I hope I got it right.
Although it’s always hard to let you grow, 19 has been a great year for you Lew. The last 12 months have seen you flourish in your role as an apprentice electrician, amazing us all with your new skills and even helping us out with a few electrical related emergencies at times (bonus). I love those moments you come home from work, your face smeared with dust and random wires hanging out of your pockets, telling us about your latest antics when something has gone wrong or showing me photos of the jobs you’re really proud of.
19 has seen you go from strength to strength with your girlfriend Emily, celebrating four years together this Summer, and making us so proud with the way you conduct yourself and the level of respect you show her. As your Mum this is all I ever ask of you.
19 saw you take your first lads holiday to Ayia Napa and saw me age a good decade in the process. For 10 long days I tracked your phone from one bar to the next, waking at 2, 3, 4am to see if you’d made it back to the hotel in one piece (and at 7am, or sometimes even later, you did…). I looked forward to your calls and texts and your random Facetimes from outside of clubs where you’d shout so loud in the way that you do when you’re completely wasted, and you’d pass me around to your mates to say hello and end the call by telling me you love me 526 times. And as much as I spent the week panicking when I’d watch videos of you quad biking at full speed or somersaulting into the sea after an open bar, I loved seeing you so happy and making the most of every moment. I love that you aren’t in too much of a rush to grow up, that your mates mean the world to you, and that you really do live in the moment from one day to the next (and one pay day to the next…).
19 saw you enjoy countless weekends away for various birthdays and celebrations, too many nights out to count and parties to remember, and from Friday to Sunday there were times I would barely see you at all. 19 saw you go to Turkey for the week with Emily, followed by Amsterdam for the first time – another trip I had dreaded – and yet you kept me updated along the way, telling me about the latest cafe you had wandered into or the hilarities you’d discovered in the Red Light District and often I’d think why are you even telling me these things? And yet I was so glad that you did.
19 saw you join us on our annual ski trip to France much to Harry’s excitement who sat beside you on the plane and didn’t leave your side until the moment we came home. The week was a blur of blue skies and ski runs, great food and nightly saunas, your constant encouragement to have an Aperol Spritz at the end of the day just so you had an excuse to join me with an Affligem. We’d sit in that gondola going up and down the mountain whilst the kids bickered over an argument you had casually started and you’d sit back and watch the bomb go off, laughing to yourself at how easy it was to wind the three of them up.
You’d show me videos you’d filmed of me throughout the course of the day, complete with a running commentary on my skiing style, my lack of speed and my rigid posture, and as much as I’d try not to fuel your own sense of hilarity, I couldn’t help but laugh myself stupid. It was a week filled with laughter (and saying “I’ll clonk you one!) and as much as I love seeing you live your life, I selfishly loved having you to ourselves just for a little while.
Although 19 was filled with the very best times, it was also the year you lost your Uncle Stuart and a time when you really stepped up to support not just me, but your grandparents too. I will never forget how you sat with me through the police interviews, how you gripped my hand so tightly when the undertakers took him away, how you carried his coffin down the aisle on the day of his funeral with so much maturity, shoulder to shoulder with your Grandad, supporting him every step of the way. Although you are still so young at heart, a quality your Uncle Stuart also shared, you have experienced so very much in life which will shape you into the incredible man you will become.
Above all Lew, 19 was the year you were the best big brother imaginable, to each of your siblings, across two different households, and despite all your wild antics and each of your wind-ups, if they grow up to be half the person you are today I will be the proudest Mum possible. They adore you, we all adore you, and although I would give just about anything to be watching you head out of the door tonight for a pint with Joseph, I know that he would be so proud to be your brother too.
Anyone who knows you will agree that you are the most lovable, kind, hilarious, forgetful, free-spirited wind-up merchant going and as much as you know how to infuriate me like nobody else on this planet, you also know how to make me laugh even more. I will never forget one of your school teachers describing you as “a lovable rogue” and even now at 20, I think that sums you up perfectly. Perhaps it always will.
Happy 20th Birthday Lewis, we love you all the stars in the sky.
Mum
xxxxxx
