a letter to my son

My dearest little prince,

Tonight (or tomorrow morning depending on how you want to look at it) at 2:14AM you will have been among us, graced us with your presence, your noises, your faces, your silliness and grumpiness for two weeks.  I can’t believe how quickly that time has gone…

It makes me worry.  We all know that our sense of time passing speeds up with each passing day.  Each year goes quicker than the year before it.  Every time we turn around we seem to be passing another milestone that once seemed so far off in the distance we didn’t need to spare it a second thought yet… until, there it is on top of us, passing us, behind us and we are hurtling towards the next.  If these past two weeks have gone as quickly as they have, how fast will the next two go?  The next two months?  The next two years?  The next two decades?

Far too quickly, all of them.

Knowing this fact though, I find myself lost in the moments I spend with you, loathe to give them up, loathe to leave your side lest you make another of your silly faces, lest I miss one of your grunts or squeals.  I want to soak in every second I have, take it all in, hold it, relish it, and in so doing prolong the present.  It’s my way of fighting the passage of time.  A losing battle, I know, but a fight worth having regardless.

I commented yesterday that you hadn’t yet been the muse I knew you would one day be because a post about you would consist solely of “He eats, he sleeps, he poops, he repeats…”  But, pervasive through all of that is the joy of having you in our lives.  The wonderment that is you.  The way time is whizzing by is a testament to that fact.

Even at 4AM when I’m bouncing you, rocking you, swaying you, and singing softly in your ear to soothe you or entertain you as you squall trying to stave off sleep or as you take in the world around in you wide-eyed amazement, even as I’m longing for the bed and the sleep it holds, I still find myself filled to overflowing with joy.  Joy for you.  Joy for having you as part of our lives.  Joy for the future you hold.

I want you to know, my son, that even when I turn around two times and you are off on your own with a family of your own and I’m wondering what happened, I will still have those moment of joy to look back on.  Time cannot take those from me.

With all my love,

The Jester

51 thoughts on “a letter to my son

  1. Beautiful, just beautiful.
    As a parent there is always a part of you that grieves as time passes, but at the same time as your child grows there are new experiences and new things to love about them. I look at my 9yr old daughter with the same sense of wonder, until she raises her eyebrows and says “what?!”, and storms off in a huff! I know my mother looks at me that way too. One of the great joys of your child being older is getting to know them as a person. So you see, don’t fret for the future, it will be just as wonderful!

    • This “newborn” adventure will run it’s course… and then we will have toddler adventures, and pre-teen adventures, and maybe we’ll just skip the teen adventures, and then young adult adventures, and then… I can’t wait, I can’t wait…

      • Oh, dear king, yes–you can wait…my “newborn” turned 18 last month. The only thing I can’t wait for now is for him to figure out it’s not cool to live with your parents… 🙂

  2. Ahh, these all bring me back to the day we had her. Between us, my hubby and I carried her for hours and hours on end that morning, not wanting to put her in her hospital-appointed bassinet, only wanting to hold her, smell her, gaze lovingly at her. We could not believe the beauty of her presence, the 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, the point of a nose, the rosy red lips that would yawn, pout, smile, smile (is that a reflex?).

    Do enjoy your special time. Do immortalize in your posts. Do share every milestone with the rest of us. We will vicariously all over again through you.

  3. An absolutely beautiful reflection. I nearly cried.

    I also had to laugh. First, you write “he eats, he sleeps, he poops, he repeats…” Then, you describe time to be “whizzing by”. What can I say? My mind put them together, and… voila!

    • LOL! Well, yes, there is a lot of that too… time and other things whizzing by… 😛 Always happy when I can get a hint of humor in the things I write. Thanks for commenting!

  4. Absolutely beautifully said! And those moments add up and fly by. I remember very clearly each of my newborns…. My oldest now soon to be 15 the next just 13 and youngest soon to be 11… They become a huge piece of your heart and those memories are embedded forever on the mind. Thanks for sharing… Congratulations on the little man! And welcome to the 20 some year project as his dad… Although you will always be his dad the project if successful becomes less of a project and so rewarding! I’m seeing rewards already… 🙂

  5. Congratulations! For having a gorgeous, healthy child, and for being wise enough to cherish each moment. My baby just turned 26, but I can still remember how warm her little head felt through that fuzz of fine hair. You are going to be such a great dad. 🙂

  6. Beautiful letter!
    You’ll never forget these days … almost 12 years later I can still remember the feel of his warm, fuzzy noggin. And I tell him that even when he’s 84 he’ll be my baby. He used to take comfort in that …these days he rolls his eyes. I always felt that as soon as I “mastered” one “phase” he had to mix things up and move to the next one.
    Make sure you print your letter for the paper baby book. 🙂
    So sweet!

  7. Very precious reflections. And you are right. There is no luxury greater than a baby for time robs you of that infant state before you see it pass! You will never be the same person again. When you marry, you give your heart away, but when you become a parent, it is life itself that you joyfully impart. Your focus turns to your child, and you willingly put aside what was once important to you. Also, becoming a parent somehow realigns relationships between parents and adult children. All of a sudden they understand the intense connection their parents have with them and can glimpse the struggle of the parent letting go of that precious treasured child. Enjoy it all while you can. You can catch up on sleep when you retire!

  8. Two thoughts:
    1. Beautiful writing, truly. I enjoyed every single word and every well-crafted phrase. Sleep deprivation suits you!
    2. Keep soaking it all in, these moments are so wonderful! (I know you remember my post from a few weeks back about the fading of memories…)

    • 1. I was sleep deprived to begin with. We’ll have to see what happens when I go back to work and have to return to a schedule.
      2. Had your post in mind while I was writing this. Maybe if I was less sleep deprived I would have thought to credit you and include a link… I will have to remedy that.

  9. Congratulations Matt and Liz, your lives will never be the same. You will fight battles for your prince you never thought you could as our parents did for us. You will love, honor and respect your parents for what they went through…and forgive them.
    You will win some, and lose some events, but He is the most important person in your life. My kids are (both) still THE most important people in my life and I will never EVER abandon them…even when the tough times hit. The great times sometimes grow few but they erase the 100 bad times with just one smile or comment. I kept 14 diaries and am still writing. Doubt they will ever read them but they are good for me because I know who I am and what I can/cannot do.
    Today, got an F erased from a very stubborn Catholic school because I fought the battle for 2 years under the worst years of my life for the sake of my son’s graduation. Jim, my soulmate and husband tells me, “I might be an attorney but I NEVER mess with Bev”. Ha! My only suggestion is let the house go and sleep as much as you can. No one ever remembers a clean house? But they remember the baby in arms saying his first word when he looked up to the moon and said ‘Ball’. (Joey) Oh how wonderful that moment was and I almost lost it when I needed to do vacuuming….

  10. Quite touching, and beautifully written. I can only imagine how you feel, your description of your little ‘Prince’. I have two stepsons, who are ‘like’ my own, but I never experienced their birth, their baby stages, such marvelous behavior.
    Enjoy your day, and savor your bundle of joy.
    Take care,
    Paul

    • Thank you! And with each new day their are new challenges and triumphs, puzzles and wonders… He is changing so fast it is hard to keep up – we just have to hang on for the ride and see where it takes us.

  11. Beautiful, touching and that love just goes on and on and on… It is THE best thing in the whole world being a parent. Enjoy.

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