Dear Luca: Happy 8th Birthday (I’m Sorry)

Luca,

I feel like you deserve a better momma than me. Because I feel like you deserve the best. That’s what my head tells me some days. Today was one of those. I know today is about you, not me, but man, I’m having a hard time here. 

I wanted to write you a song for your birthday, but I only got it half done. 
And I wanted to bake you a cake. But I just bought something from the barkery. 
And I wanted to go on a hike with you. But I knew you’d be limping in pain when we got back. 
And I wanted to take you anyway, just so I wouldn't feel so guilty for leaving you home on your birthday. But I didn’t. 

I’m sorry you didn’t get to see me much today. Even the thought of being home was too emotional to handle. These holidays and birthdays are tough for me. I just feel so much pressure to get it all right. To make it the perfect day for you. To perfectly express how I feel. How much I love you, how much you mean to me. 

And I just freeze up and get paralyzed with it.

It’s been 7 years together, and I know I love you, and I know intellectually that you love me, too. But I’m still not able to fully receive and accept how much you love me on a deep level. I don’t understand. I feel like I don't deserve it. And it makes me really sad. 

I remember when I moved out of the house and left that relationship, I was questioning whether or not I should take you with me. I wasn’t sure. Yea, I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it’s true. I was honestly debating leaving you behind.

I felt bad for taking you away from your brother. It felt like I was being selfish.

And I remember asking a friend what to do, and I said how you—the dog who lives and  breathes for food—wouldn’t even go downstairs for breakfast on the weekends if I was sleeping in. You’d stay there snuggling with me until I woke up before you’d go eat.

And just from that she said, “Yea, that’s your dog.”

I just don't understand how you could possibly love me that much. And why me? It doesn’t make sense. I just never feel good enough for your love, pup. And I get so afraid that you’re gonna die before I realize how to fully take it in. And then I’ll be only more sad at what I missed out with you. 

I’m sorry for all this. I’m just not good at these birthdays. The other days of the year I’m more okay. So I guess if I could either be a total mess one day a year and relatively okay the rest, versus good just on your birthday but shitty on the rest, I’d choose this.

I don't know, pup. I just hope I’m doing right by you. Everyone says I am. And everyone says you're happy. And yet I still doubt it. I still question if I should be doing more. I question if they really see the full picture, because they’re not actually here with me and you all day. 

It’d actually make this all a lot easier I think if you could act mad at me every once in a while. Cause when I’m telling myself what a terrible dog mom I am, and then I walk in the door and you’re jumping and happy to see me again, you really are making the story quite confusing to keep straight in my head. 

It makes me wonder if this is why my mom always went way over and above on our birthdays as a kid. I guess that’s just her way. But me? I’m totally the opposite. And I just want to retreat and hide away. The pressure of this “performative love” on a special day absolutely paralyzes me.

I just hope I’m doing this right, pup. 
I hope I’m doing this right by you. 
And I hope I can let you love me one of these days without fighting it and pushing it away.
It's so hard.

But anyway, pup.

I hope you liked your little treats. And I hope you got a chance to savor at least part of the flavor before you swallowed them in 3 seconds. I made you a half-written song. And I got us some flowers, but I know you don’t really care about flowers so I really just got them for me. To celebrate how far we’ve come in the last 7 years. 

This year I finally accepted that you’re my soul dog. I don’t get how I deserve that or why you chose me. But I accept that I’m not going to have it all figured out today. I hope I get a lot more time with you to figure it out.

Thanks for being there with me.
Happy 8th birthday pup. 
Thank you for being you.

Love, 

Momma