He wrote his first love e-mail to me at thirteen, from Deck 2 -- a small woodsy cabin in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. When we were old enough, his family welcomed me along. Cape Cod is the type of place that reminds you of everyone. You want to share it with all your loves because pictures and words cannot offer that feeling of peace you wish to gift away.
We went every summer in high school, wearing rival sweatshirts around a beached bonfire. Snuck behind the truck for our first beer, lit candles in the loft, bickered over very little problems, swam in cold, clear water, and kissed teenage days away.
College brought new fun in Provincetown. Marriage brought work and five years away. Then, the opportunity to go again.
We went every summer in high school, wearing rival sweatshirts around a beached bonfire. Snuck behind the truck for our first beer, lit candles in the loft, bickered over very little problems, swam in cold, clear water, and kissed teenage days away.
College brought new fun in Provincetown. Marriage brought work and five years away. Then, the opportunity to go again.
Dear Spense,
I love watching you rest. Close your eyes, fall asleep, let the tension on your shoulders fall away. So often I am telling you, don't worry, hand over your burden-- its not yours to hold (Psalm 55:22). Then we arrive, and I watch you live in each moment like you haven't in a long time. I haven't. And here I am, reading through a book on Mindfulness & Parenting, psh. My teacher is in front of me, and I can only just stare at you. I'm trying so hard to just walk, while walking. Just listen, while listening. Just kiss Aris, while kissing him. It can be so hard.
Your joy of fatherhood stops me, still. I know your love for him is different and something I won't understand. The way he pushes around your face while your hopelessly still trying to remain asleep, biggest eyes & gaping mouth the moment he realizes you're coming for him. You rest in your son's love, then offer the softest place for him to land. It is my dreams, realized.
My love you are teaching me, humbling me, challenging me to live each breath as its own. To practice being mindful and not cast situational judgement from moment to moment. Just skip rocks, while skipping rocks.
I love watching you rest. Close your eyes, fall asleep, let the tension on your shoulders fall away. So often I am telling you, don't worry, hand over your burden-- its not yours to hold (Psalm 55:22). Then we arrive, and I watch you live in each moment like you haven't in a long time. I haven't. And here I am, reading through a book on Mindfulness & Parenting, psh. My teacher is in front of me, and I can only just stare at you. I'm trying so hard to just walk, while walking. Just listen, while listening. Just kiss Aris, while kissing him. It can be so hard.
Your joy of fatherhood stops me, still. I know your love for him is different and something I won't understand. The way he pushes around your face while your hopelessly still trying to remain asleep, biggest eyes & gaping mouth the moment he realizes you're coming for him. You rest in your son's love, then offer the softest place for him to land. It is my dreams, realized.
My love you are teaching me, humbling me, challenging me to live each breath as its own. To practice being mindful and not cast situational judgement from moment to moment. Just skip rocks, while skipping rocks.
spense, you make us so brave-- happy, joyful 27th my love!