Friday, November 23, 2018

Happy Birthday, Son


I want to thank you for making it to the awesome age of three, I've literally seen you come a long way and right from the top, I can honestly say I'm so proud of you.  It's really a miracle watching kids grow up and though that may sound/be corny, this is me talking to you and it's not important what anyone but you and I think about it.

I first thought of writing to you to say thanks.  Thanks for teaching me about being a dad and what's it like to live through the transfiguration of Self, via male offspring. I can't explain it biologically or even attempt to be accurate, psychologically, but I've had to question so many assumptions or routines or ways of knowing myself in relation to raising you after having only learned a thing or three with C.  Perhaps this is evidence of never knowing anything and we just learn as we go.

Because of my weaknesses, your beautiful and thankful presence tested the malleability of my patience and self-control and the boundaries of love, which -- via you, I have realized -- is elastic and reoccurring.  You, as did your sister before you, made me fall in love all over again, which I did not know I could do, over and over.

Your existence and the decisions I made subsequent to your birth were huge.  They have significantly impacted my life and it's purely because of you that I have experienced myself more fully and learned new mental territories.

I'm looking at the present moment of joy and love, and reflect of the many many times of anger and madness and tiredness and frustration and laughter and ..., and I see that they all led me here, into the now, proud of and in love with you.  I want you to hear it directly from me: I was not always the nicest dad and I got frustrated with you way too many times because I was weak and impatient and have a bit of bad programming my own self.  You've helped me see myself in a line of humans trying to improve themselves, both in love and enraged with the world, dealing with it.

You've been a fantastic teacher just by being yourself.  My relationship was, in retrospect, one of a disengaged student in denial, but you were an unflinching teacher and those are the ones we don't forget.

I know this is all cryptic and you're only three so this is pretty heavy shit to lay on you.  The resounding message is one looking to the future, aware of the present and thankful for the coloured past.  I am grateful for you and love you with everyone ounce of my being.

With love, happy birthday son.