happy 6th birthday liam: a month later
Dad and I often refer to you as a man trapped in a boy’s body: a man-child, I suppose. The other day we were talking about creation, memorizing the first lines in Genesis, when you stopped and asked, “if God hadn’t created people yet, how do we know all this happened? Who wrote all this down?” Your ability to form abstractions and longing to participate in adult conversation can often illude us (and other adult friends/family) into verbal spars or bunny trails; Tito admits he sometimes dreads bringing a Dr. Pepper over, knowing you’re going to lecture him on the “how bad Cokes are for you.” It’s ridiculous to say, but your mannerisms and language mimic adults so much that I think we all forget at times that you’re still a boy — in spite of your obviously boy-sized self. However, in moments when I catch you sucking your thumb (in spite of nasty-tasting stuff we put on your nail and your dentist’s disapproval) or crying due to your hurt feelings or laughing hysterically over some sort of bathroom humor, I glimpse the little boy in you — the little boy you are. Our lives are referred to as vapors, and outside of Neverland, growing up is our inevitable; so my want for you, sweet boy, is to revel in boyhood (where you are now).
I love you. I love the way you empathize with those around you or eavesdrop on conversations while still pretending to do something else. I love how eager you are to teach and lead others (even though your direction isn’t yet matured).I love your drama — the way your soul drips off of you like an over-soaked sponge. And in spite of your over-confident, even boastful nature, your heart is deep and tender; your zeal always provokes — mostly laughter though. This year, when you opened the skateboard and deep sea book that Dad and I gave you, you exclaimed, “Oh! I’ve wanted one of these my WHOLE life!” Fortunately, you only had to wait six years.
I love that you are my son. Happy, although belated, birthday.