My Dear Son,
The weeks of summer are flying by, and you continue to change and grow at a staggering pace. In an effort to remember some of your/our finer moments, I started a list…
What I love: That you have finally gathered the bravery to swat flies yourself. I know their buzzing both irritates and terrifies you; you seem to hear it at a volume far beyond what the rest of us do. And yet, you face your fear and attempt to get rid of them under your own power.
What I don’t love: That the glass slider in our kitchen is covered with so many splotches of blood, guts, and broken wings that I’ve begun referring to it as “Death’s Door.” (Note to self: introduce Windex.)
What I love: How much you enjoyed the close-up encounters with bison last week during our Yellowstone vacation. And how you giggle so hard when I make my voice low, slow, and ridiculous to make the bison “talk.”
What I don’t love: That in the few days we have been home, you have made me do the bison voice for your pediatrician, your psychologist, and several random strangers in the grocery store.
What I love: That despite your anxiety and prolific worrying, you think positively about the future and enjoy talking about what it might be like when you finish high school and go to college.
What I don’t love: That during one such recent discussion that included your grandparents, you gestured towards them and asked me plainly, “Will they be dead by then?”