September 25, 2010
Dear Alex,
I can’t believe that you are five years old already, son. Your birth still remains a very vivid memory to me. The surreal feeling of watching a new human that I helped create come into the world is something very, very hard to describe, but I remember like it was a minute ago. At that moment, your head was quite cone shaped and you were purple, a real alien-looking child. They took you over to a scale, wiped you off, and stuck your feet in ink. The nurse asked if I wanted a stamp of your foot on my hand, and I said, “Yes!” I didn’t wash the top of my hand for a few days after that.
Now here you are, a real boy. A true kid. My little man. I am so proud of you and who you are. You have a great heart that shows in the way you are with other people. You understand sharing and helping other kids. You melt my heart every time you, at random, tell me you love me. Sometimes when you’re mad, you will tell me or other people that you don’t love us. You don’t yet understand how hurtful of a thing this is to say to someone, but I know exactly why you do it. You say it because it’s the worst possible thing you can think of since, even at your age, you know what it means to say that you love someone.
I have to admit, I have felt a little disappointed at times that you seem so different from me. But then I realize that a lot of the differences are just you being fortunate enough to not have inherited some of my less desirable traits. I can’t imagine you ever being lazy and self-centered like me. Unlike me, you are very gregarious and eager to meet and talk to new people. Your mommy says that you remind her a lot of her dad, whose name is your middle name, which is great. From what I’ve heard about him, he seems like he was an awesome guy. I hope that means that you will grow up to be thinner and taller than me. With luck, a lot taller. You are very creative, and you sure didn’t get that from me. I thought that your early fascination with balls meant that you would be into sports, but you say that watching them with me is boring. You do like playing games, though. You still may enjoy playing sports down the road, but I will love you forever just as much if you never get into sports. I certainly am glad that you aren’t just a clone of me. Here’s hoping that my acne skips you over too, although it looks my asthma may not have.
You really enjoy gathering stuff and putting things in containers like plastic bags and boxes. Mommy says that this is because you are like me since I like to collect stuff, but I don’t think so. I always played with my toys as toys, and you seem to only like toys for their value in being objects to gather and put in things. I do find myself, at times, watching you organize your toys and thinking how I would do it exactly the same way, so maybe you get that part of it from me.
In a lot of ways you remind me of my dad. You don’t really like to be stationary for very long. I imagine, like him, you will grow up to feel anxious any time you aren’t doing stuff. Hopefully the two of you will have plenty of opportunities down the road to spend time doing stuff together.
It is hard for me to watch how you interact with your little brother sometimes, when you push him down, take things away, hurt him, or make him cry. I get angry at you, but I think I am just feeling angry at myself because I used to treat my little brother the same way. Brothers are one of the most important things in the world. I know that growing up you will not understand this very well because I didn’t either. Just know that you and your brother will need to be there for each other in the future, and your job is to always look out for him.
There are other things you do that I think are pretty neat. I like how you like to see yourself in videos. I like how self-confident you are, acknowledging most compliments with “Yes I am” or “I know.” I try to teach you to say thanks when people say nice things about you, but it’s okay that you don’t understand to do that yet. I like how you like getting tattoos. I like how you know to shake grown-ups hands when you first meet them. I like how you introduce yourself to new kids you meet at the playground with “My name is Alex.” I like how sometimes you come over and sit on top of me when we’re watching TV. I like how you take my hand when we’re walking around out in public so that I can make sure you are safe.
Alex, I love you more than I could ever describe or that you possibly could comprehend. In just five short years, you have become a very important part of my life – beyond just me being your dad and you being my son. I cannot envision life without you in it, nor do I care to. I am so happy to be privileged enough to spend my life with you.
Love,
Your Dad
