It is raining. The world feels slower, even if only for a few moments. I will take this space to sit with my thoughts.
Motherhood offers pauses like this, rare and fleeting. Some pass by unnoticed while others linger; heavy with meaning, pulling me into reflection. This morning, my thoughts settle on my boys, who they are, and who they are becoming.
Pierce, who lives and runs with heart and conviction, has seen doors open and close. He poured himself into a program that once felt like home, working relentlessly, giving everything he had, believing in himself and the vision, and pushing for something greater. In the end, after much thought, he chose to leave, knowing that staying meant accepting the limits placed in front of him. He wanted to put himself in an environment where he could test what was possible and see how far he could go.
Aston moves through the world with quiet determination. Every day, he steps into his life or onto the field and earns his place; not because of luck and not because anything is handed to him, but because of the effort he puts in when no one is watching. His drive is entirely his own. His belief in himself is steady. His grit is something that cannot be ignored, no matter who tries to ignore it.
These boys. These sons of mine.
This is not about boasting. They work. They push. They stand for what they believe in. They have strong opinions and strong conviction, just like I do. They know who they are, and they stand firm in that truth.
I see the moments of doubt; the quiet battles they do not always put into words; the weight they carry; the questions they sit with; the pressure they place on themselves to live up to their own expectations. I see it all. I see the way they move through it. They do not turn away when things feel uncertain. They do not wait for reassurance before stepping forward. They choose to keep going; to work through the hard parts; to face whatever is in front of them. Not because they have to. They choose it. That is who they are.
There is no guidebook for raising strong, kind, driven, compassionate men. If there was, I imagine it would say something like this:
Show up.
Be present.
Tell them the truth.
Let them feel it all; the joy; the disappointment; the weight of unfairness.
Teach them to keep going anyway.
This morning, as I listen to the rain, I sit with all of it; the ache; the beauty; the enormity of watching them grow. The feeling is not sadness. It is pride. It is gratitude. Every day, they show me more of who they are, and it is my greatest joy and honor to witness. Who they are becoming inspires me, just as who I am becoming is stronger because of them.
Welcome to a new day.
♥️ Sandy
