To Liam on His 9th Birthday

Liam,

I write this at the end of full day which has come at the end of a long week. It was Spring Break this past week and so your Mom and I thought it good to take you and your brother to Washington, D.C. Some of it was wonderful. I will never get tired of seeing you or your brother experience new things in this world. I swelled with pride as you started rattling off facts about a president and impressed a stranger when we were in the National Museum of American History. And I loved following you as you bounded around pointing out planes and spaceships at the Udvar-Hazy Center of the Air and Space Museum. Of course other parts, were a little more taxing. I think most parents have moments on vacation with their kids when they seriously question the whole concept of vacation with kids.

We capped it off by stopping in Pigeon Forge on the way home to go to Dollywood with your South Carolina grandparents and some of your cousins. All of this was a lot of fun, but I am incredibly tired and I am not sure that my weary mind can produce what I really want to in this annual letter to you. But I’m going to try.

I could rattle off how you still love ducks and Scooby-Doo. Or about how you are really in to reading books about which animals would win in a battle or real-life survival stories. I could talk about how if there is a wall then you are going to try walk on it. Or about how it slightly concerns me how half the time that you play Zelda, you are seeking out creative ways for Link to get maimed and/or killed. Or I could talk about how almost once a week while we are reading Bible stories, you ask really probing and challenging questions about faith that give my Master of Divinity degree a run for its money.

Yet here is the main thing that I want you to know about you at nine years old: your heart is so big. Actually all of your emotions are big to the point where you don’t always know what to do with them. Yet I love how much you care for everyone around you. I love how you want to snuggle with your mom in the mornings. I love how you still grab my hand when we’re walking in the park. I love how much you care for animals. Every time you see a dog, a duck, a cat, a squirrel, a bear at the zoo, whatever, it’s like your heart goes out to that creature.

Which brings us to your birthday present. All you have wanted ever since Obie died is a pet. You have wanted another dog. Honestly, I want a dog too, but I think I am still too emotionally fried from two years of a pandemic for that venture. When you realized a four-footed friend was not in your immediate future, you pivoted to a fish. Your response was priceless and perfect encapsulation of your Liam-ness: you smiled, laughed, and fake fainted on the couch. As we brought Halfmoon (for that’s the type of betta fish he is; I’m going to subtly see if we can call him Mo) home, you were so careful, so concerned with taking care of him.

I hope that concern for taking care of others never fades away. I don’t think it will. Again, it goes back to that big heart of yours that your mom and I love so much. And my prayer is that you will always know how much we love you, how much you have family and friends who love you, how much God loves you. You are a gift, Liam. I am so grateful that I get to be your dad. Happy 9th birthday!

Love,
Papa