To Liam on His 8th Birthday

Liam,

As I write this, I am sitting on the floor in the room of my childhood home. You are laying on a mattress intently reading a Scooby-Doo book as you wind down for bed. I close my eyes and think about when we first met you eight years ago. How you fit in our arms. How your face was round and squished up. Today you seem impossibly big and impossibly old, but I think that is how all parents feel on their kid’s birthday.

We were walking in a park the other day with your grandparents and you did something that you have done on our many other walks in this pandemic year. You slipped your hand into mine and held it as we walked along. Your animated voice bouncing from one idea to another as your other hand waved and gesticulated in all directions.

I’m thankful each time it happens because I know moments like that probably aren’t long for this world. I hope and know that others will take its place; other gestures and moments that connect us as you grow up. But those times when you put your hand in mine grounds me. It calms me in a world that has been anything but calm. It’s a reminder that when everything is changing that you will always be my son, I will always be your dad, and there is a love that holds us together. Those reminders are a gift.

And you are a gift. You keep both me and your mom on our toes. You have a personality that bursts forth from you. You are always jumping, moving, chattering, and singing to yourself. You have been on this kick recently where anytime you do anything the least bit helpful or smart, you begin announcing in a faux-important voice: “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll be signing autographs all week!” When you finally go still, you want to be next to me or your mom head buried against us.

You seem to know who you are and embrace it fully. When you are driving me up the wall at bedtime because you are bouncing off the walls when you should be going to bed, you proclaim, “I’m too active!” When one of us tries to get you to wear pants instead of soccer shorts in 35 degree weather, you confidently declare, “My body is different than yours!” This stubborn independence causes your mom and I some headaches and I foresee more of that as you grow up. I hope you learn to listen more, but I also hope that you never lose that self-possessed understanding of who you are.

Who you are is a smart, creative, loving child full of energy. My prayer is that you will continue to lean into who God made you to be and share that wonder with everyone around you. And know deep down that, no matter what, you will always be loved. By me, your mom, your brother, your grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and so many more who have crossed your path. You are loved more than you can imagine. Happy 8th birthday Liam! I am so fortunate that I get to be your dad.

Love,
Papa