To Jim on His 14th Birthday

Jim,

One of my favorite things happens maybe once a month if we are really on our game. It is those school mornings where both you and your brother get out of bed at the first call, each of you does an efficient job of getting ready, and we do not get ensnarled in some ungodly traffic quagmire on the way to school. Because if all those things happen and the weather is nice, you and I will get to your school and you’ll ask if we can go for a walk before you head into study hall.

We talk sometimes about school, more often about Star Wars or the latest minutiae you have absorbed about DC Comics. Even more precious is when those conversations turn to your worries, your hopes, your friends, and your questions about the world. I am typically a fast walker and have to consciously remind myself to go at the pace of the person who I am with (your mom will attest to this quirk of mine), but I don’t seem to have that issue on these morning walks with you. I like the slower pace. It is on those mornings in which we get to walk one or two laps around the field at your school that things don’t feel like they are flying by so quickly.

You are turning 14 years old today and then three days from now you will have your 8th grade graduation. It is hard to remember life without you and in my mind’s eye, you have always been a kid. Now though you are barreling towards high school and are a year off from learning how to drive and your voice is deep and you occasionally shave. Do not misunderstand me, you are still very much a kid and will always be our kid. Yet it is getting more and more difficult to deny that adulthood is creeping closer.

So I am trying to embrace what we have right now. It is why I love the walks. it is why I love that you enjoy recording a podcast with me each week in spite of the fact that having to also record it with your brother usually annoys the crap out of you. It is why I love the nightly Mario Kart matches we have and how you and your mom get so intensely competitive about them. It is why I love going to movies with you. It’s not that these things will necessarily stop. I just don’t want to take them for granted.

I love you and I like you so much. You are smart and funny. You are creative; one of my tasks this summer is to edit your, at last count, 275+ page novel. You love your Mom and I and you tell us so every day. You have been excited for weeks about your grandparents coming into town. You try to see the world through a lens of justice for everybody. Through a bumpy year, you have continued to go to church when it would have been understandable had you wanted to cast it off. You are not perfect. Far from it, but, my gosh, I really do love you.

This is my prayer for you. It is basically the same prayer that your mom and I have always had for you. I hope that you always know how much you are loved; loved by God, your mom and I, your brother, your grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and friends. Never ever forget that. I pray that you will stay curious and let compassion lead you towards helping others. I pray that you will continue to search for ways to bring light into the world. And I pray that you always know that I am down for a walk. Happy Birthday, Jim! Your mom and I are so grateful for you and we love you with all of our hearts.

Love,
Dad