Ever since you turned five, you yearned to be six. You imagined some secret sorcery in life after five. An entire world without training wheels.
However, now that you are days away from turning six, you suddenly seem reluctant to relinquish five. I understand and even brush against that hesitation.
But the secret is that you get to carry all that you are with you into your new year, your next evolution. So that we both remember, I want to share a portrait of you, five years into your journey.
You overflow. With questions, compliments, non sequiturs and laughter. You steep in fullness: Hope-full. Joy-full. Thought-full. It’s a wonder your lanky, forty-pound frame can contain your spirit.
You believe. In the glow of Rudolph’s nose outside your bedroom window. In Santa and the Easter Bunny. In your daddy. In me. Without conditions or judgments. You reside in optimism and assume good intentions. You pull me into possibility.
You wonder. At sunsets, stars, rainbows, tidal pools – and zombies, skulls and iPads. You become especially philosophical in your car seat. You ask how everything works – galaxies, God, garage door openers. You outgoogle Google.
You engage. We barely get through the grocery store with all the conversations you spark. You talk to butterflies and dolphins. You sing in the bathroom and hum yourself to sleep. You dance fearlessly in public. You hold beachside funerals for horseshoe crabs. You tell jokes without punch lines and laugh maniacally. You are the first to hug your friends when they cry.
You love. You still ask me to marry you. You press your freckled nose into my neck when we snuggle. You idolize your daddy. You begin and end your days with the words, “I love you.” You cast your heart again and again, and trust the river will rise to meet it.
Quite simply, dear Rabbit, you make me a better parent, partner and person. I am lucky to know you at any age. To fully see and hear you, and adore you just as you are.
I love you to the moon and back,
Mommy
You have absolutely captured the essence of our boy. To me, he has exploded our little twosome in the best possible way, creating a space for himself that I didn't know I was missing. Thanks for so vividly describing our co-conspirator. I can't wait for the Seven entry next year.
ReplyDeleteThis is, quite simply, the most beautiful love letter I've ever read. Bravo on the letter -- but more to the point, bravo on that boy of yours.
ReplyDeleteMolly,
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing memento for Jack to read when he gets older. It brought a lump to my throat and a smile to my face. Thanks for sharing!
Carol. (Isabel's mum)
Aunt Heidi agrees! Jack is a spectacular reflection of the best qualities of both my dear brother and my unbelievable sister-in-law. But he is so much more than the sum of those parts. He has brought joy, unbridled optimism and wonder back to all of us. I love this kid so very much and continue to marvel at ever having been without him. Molly, once again, you have captured his spirit and essence so vividly and warmly, and it's an amazing letter to leave him.
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