9 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

This week has been unexpectedly emotional for me. You’ve been away on vacation in Florida with Nonna and Papa, as well as Aunt Dana and Uncle Andrew, and your cousins.

I didn’t expect to miss you so much. After all, you’re like 9 year and a half years old now. You’re not a little boy anymore.

And that’s exactly why it hit me so hard…

While I couldn’t possibly be prouder of the boy you’ve become, I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that those days of you being a little boy are gone.

For the past 4 days, I have been journaling my thoughts and feelings through a song I have been writing; so that I myself can better understand what I am going through right now.

Today, I was finally able to record the song; one of the few times I was able to do so without crying.

And when I say crying, I mean bawling.

It helped when your Aunt Dana told me today that you are currently taking a break from swimming in the ocean to watch WWE Wrestling.

You don’t treat your stuffed animals like they are real anymore, but you still believe WWE Wrestling is real. I can settle for that. You’re not fully grown up yet.

I love you, Jack.

That boy’s been growing up, that boy’s been growing up on me

He shouldn’t be enough, he shouldn’t be old enough

It doesn’t seem, it doesn’t seem

Those Hot Wheels have all raced away

Like the friends of Thomas the Train

And now I’m missing that boy who went with them

He’s growing up

Those stuffed animals all used to be real

But they’re starting to all disappear

And now my baby boy, first born bundle of joy, is growing up on me

That boy’s a part of me, that boy’s a part of me

My son is growing up

Holding on to memories, never letting go of these

My son is growing up

It takes so much for me to ever cry these days

So it’s funny how these words are drenched in tears

A father’s love for his only son is all it takes

To get me here

And now I’m here

Love,

Daddy