Monday, December 27, 2010
An Open Letter To My Son
For the past several years I have written a blog post about your on your birthday. Some of them were sappy, and some were entertaining (to me anyhow), and then there was that year with the big cake... but none-the-less, each year I have written one. Mostly I write them for myself. A reflection on the past year, or the past however many years you've been alive on this earth, and how I am feeling about all of it. You took me be surprise however, when you announced that you were going to go read your birthday post on my blog, especially as I hadn't written it yet.
It's not that I didn't want to write it. In fact, I came here several times, all ready to pen some words of reflection, or wisdom.. and I just couldn't do it. See, the thing is, I can't quite wrap my brain around you being 16. It's not that it makes me feel old, or makes me think you are old, it's that I have begun to realize that we don't have that much time left with you. I remember when I turned 16, and I remember how fast the time between that birthday and graduating HS went by. I already see how fast these years are going by with you, and I have begun to realize that soon you will be graduated, and off to start the greatest adventure of your life. I'm having a hard time with this... not because I don't think you'll be ready, because I have every confidence in you. You are an amazing young man, and I think you are going to do great things with your life. The thing is, I'm not ready to let you go yet.
Thank you for humoring me this Christmas season and participating in the "read a book every night until Christmas" tradition. I know you feel it's a waste of time, and you have better things to be doing, but it's important to me. We didn't have very many solid Christmas traditions when I was growing up, and I like to think I have done better with you and your sister. I've been participating in a blog reflection project this month, and today's task was to come and post about ordinary joy. The assignment was to write about one of our most joyful ordinary moments. As I was thinking of this, I realized that some of my most joyful moments of 2010 involved you, which surprised me, as we have been at a bit of odds the past few years as you move through adolescence. I thought back to when we were at the hospital and you didn't want to hold your new baby cousin because she was so small and tiny, and how adorable you were when you finally did. Then I laughed remembering you and dad standing in the hall with the hospital masks on when Ash and I came out of the bathroom. I remembered how grown up and mature you seemed giving the reading at Millie's funeral service, and how happy and proud I was of you that day. I thought about that hole you dug at the beach when we went for dad's birthday, and then how you got right into it up to your chest. Simple, ordinary moments. These are the things that I will miss the most.
So as you make your way through the next few years of your life, preparing to go off and conquer the world, humor me sometimes and read Christmas books without complaining, or participate in a family outing even if you think it's lame and you'd rather be online writing OS's. Be nicer to your sister, don't antagonize your father so much, and remember I love you.