For Nella, on Pax's 8th Birthday

birth day


a rite of passage
if you are one of the lucky ones,
cake and streamers
a balloon
some ice cream
new shoes
a party dress and dancing,
a celebration.

if you are luckier still
someday,
something new.
And the one who lay
curled beneath your heart
swimming in a salty sea
arrives.
Suddenly
the earth turns
and you are born again.

5/21/2010

A Jubilant Countdown

If I was to choose
one moment in time
from these first nine years
then I would tell of how I loved you in Italy
where you clamored for more gelato,
a better seat on the bus,
breakfast of bacon,
one more minute to swim in the Adriatic Sea.
In Pisa,
where you beat your chest à la Johnny Weissmuller
and Buster Crabbes,
there was no mistaking
your intent.
Like a gusty wind pushing through the clothes,
your howl conveyed what you had stubbornly decided—
your opinions were clear.

Here is the truth
your rage makes me love you more.
You are alive with a fire for this world,
a flame I smothered in my own heart
long before you were born.
But on the ancient streets of Rome and Florence
you veraciously taught me
how to ignite it again.

Dear Evan,

Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy. You are eleven years old today. It's hard to believe that it has been eleven years since you were born. I remember so clearly the moment you arrived in this world and Doctor DeGraaf said, "It's a boy!" I cried when I finally held you and saw how perfect you were. You looked like an eskimo baby, everyone said so. And you were so good. You didn't cry much. You ate and slept when you were supposed to. I couldn't stop staring at you. I memorized every hair on your head.

You have grown and changed, but some things remain the same. You have such a sweet, sensitive nature. You are compassionate and caring, always hugging my friends, remembering to be polite and courteous, thankful when you receive something; such a gentleman. I hope you will always be a gentle man.

You are smart--a voracious reader, always with your nose in a book. You are good at math and spelling and science, it all seems to come naturally to you. And you seem to enjoy learning, you are curious and interested in the world around you which is a wonderful quality.

You are creative. I love to watch you draw. Your doodles are hilarious and you have filled notebook after notebook with your creations. I never want to throw any of them away, even the tiniest scraps of paper I save because they were drawn by you.

You are a loving brother. I know every kid fights with their siblings sometimes, but you go out of your way to include Charlie and to be kind to him most of the time. You enjoy being with your little brother and take time for him. I hope you will always be close. And you are a respectful and sweet son. I love that you will still cuddle with me, that you will still kiss me goodbye in front of the school, hold my hand when we are walking somewhere, and want me to sing to you before you fall asleep. This will all change one day soon, but I think you will always be soulful and kind. I hope so.

I sit here on your eleventh birthday and wish on your candles as you blow them out: there will be times when you are met with disappointment instead of success. Life won’t always turn out the way you want. This is something we all face, but instead of letting these things get you down, push on. Accept disappointment and learn to persevere, to pursue your dreams despite pitfalls. Learn to turn negatives into positives. Life is a journey. Make it a journey of happiness, of constant learning, of continual improvement, of love.

And most of all, love yourself. While others may criticize you, learn not to be so hard on yourself, to think that you’re ugly or dumb or unworthy of love--but to think instead that you are a wonderful human being, worthy of happiness and love--and learn to love yourself for who you are.

That is what I wish for you today. I just want you to know how proud I am to be your mother.

Love,
Mom

Happy Birthday, E!

How is it possible that 10 years have gone by since my first boy was born? Tomorrow he will turn 10 and begin his 11th year on this earth. I cannot believe that so much time has gone by since he came squalling into this world, looking like a little Eskimo, making our hearts feel as though they could burst wide open at any moment. I can't believe he has gone from that wee babe who slept and cried and needed me for everything, to this handsome, sensitive, artistic soul who still sleeps and cries, but needs me for less and less. A boy who is learning to walk on his own in this world, who is becoming the man I always knew he would be, but still can't believe it's happening before my very eyes.

J said last night that E turning 10 is making him feel even older than his impending 40th birthday makes him feel, and I agree. How could we have gone from those wide-eyed, our-whole life-is-still-ahead-of-us college sweethearts to parents of a 10-year-old boy so quickly? For that matter, how did I go from being 10 myself to having a 10 year old? Is that weird for you, too? Do you sometimes feel like you can access those feelings and emotions and memories so easily that the years can't possibly be so long gone?

I asked my mother that once: when do you start feeling your age? She says you don't; that sometimes, even though she's past sixty, she still feels like she's that carefree 16-year-old girl who was the class clown and danced with a doorknob to practice for the school sock hop. Or the sly 7-year-old who snuck up to the attic and found her Toni doll, permed it's hair and put it back in the box, re-wrapped it and feigned surprise on Christmas morning. (True story.) I hope so. I hope that even though time goes by in the blink of an eye, that we never stop feeling like being a kid was just a minute ago. I hope we never feel old, even when we look old. I hope our kids (and grandkids someday) keep us young at heart. I hope I never forget what it was like to run through the woods pretending to be Tarzan (never Jane, only Tarzan) or to swing on the swings so high you felt like you really might touch the sky or to swim in the ocean for so long that your chest hurt when you breathed in and out. I hope I never forget what it was like to be a kid. I hope I never forget how I felt when my boy turned 10.

Happy Birthday, E. You are my sunshine.