Every previous summer of your life, I felt a bit guilty that you had to spend 5 days a week at a summer enrichment program, as opposed to hanging out at the house like I did during my summers as a kid.
Now, thanks to Covid Culture, your only option is to hang out at the house with Mommy and me; as we spend all day working from home.
It’s almost like trading one parental guilt for another.
I feel bad that I can’t spend quality time with you during the day, even though you are right there in the next room.
But we are making it work.
You are especially good at keeping me posted on your newest self-assigned Lego project; as our living room is currently an ocean of Lego blocks.
Last weekend Mommy and I celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary by visiting Look Out Winerynear Chattanooga. We arrived a few minutes before they opened, and as we were making our way over to our table, which overlooked the river, we could help but notice an inviting little cat lying there on the ledge.
Mommy and I immediately both thought the same thing:
If Holly were a cat, this would be her.
She wasn’t a kitten. She seemed fully grown. However, she was more of the size of a kitten. She had big blue almond-shaped eyes.
And of course, she was very friendly, inviting, and playful.
It was May 2010 that I decided to start writing you at least one letter every week, to serve as a thumbnail of what was going on in your life that week, or at least what was going on in my head as your dad that week.
I should point out that in May 2010, you weren’t born yet. Instead, that was the month that Mommy and I found out we were going to be having a baby.
You weren’t born until November. So for over a decade, I have been creating and growing this collection of journal entries to document each week of your life.
I have told you about it. You are aware I do this.
But later, when you are older, I think you will truly be able to appreciate having an archive of your own life, written by your dad.
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
