Thursday, March 7, 2013


  Dear Jack,

 Tomorrow you will be five and I'm still not sure how this happens. The number feels rounder and heavier than it's predecessor. You are taller and have shed so much of your toddler features I have to remind myself that you're still the same boy.

Where did this go?

So much has changed in our lives but you've always managed to roll with the punches in a way that I, at twenty-five, admire. You have retained your sweetness towards the world and extend it wherever you can. There is a part of me that pleads with the Universe to not take that from you. I wish for your health, your future; but I wish, more than anything, that your disposition remains. 

In a selfish way I am filled with pride. There is a feeling that you've done something right when a person like you exists in the world. I must check that and check it often because you are your own person. You are my favorite person.

There are moments where I am caught in sheer wonderment. 

How are you MY son?
How did I deserve you?

Somewhere along the way I asked a question and then the answer was born. March 8th, 2008. 

I have strived to find what I was meant to do with my life. Some affinities stick and some fall behind. Sometimes I feel like a failure and sometimes I just feel like an amateur. But there is one undeniable truth in my life. 

You are the still point of my turning world. 

I love you more than you can fathom, Bubs


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