For My Son David As He Starts Kindergarten

You were born late into the night, really in the early hours of a new day on September 29th, 2006. You were my first child, and my first son. Your mom tells me that the look on my face when the nice lady told us you were going to be a boy was one of pure elation. I believe it; in that moment you started a trend that you’ve continued so far in all of your nearly six years on this blue and green marble we call Earth: giving me pleasant surprises.

(You, of course know we call it Earth, and you also know every other planet in our solar system, its relative location to the Sun, and even that Pluto is no longer classified a planet because it’s a “big ball of ice.” )

Things haven’t been perfect in this first stage of your life, Son. There have been ups and downs and challenges every step of the way it seemed. But through it all, you’ve come to show me just how easy it is to get through the rough times when you simply choose to get through them. You were the first person in this life to teach me how it’s possible to love someone you’ve truly never met. That’s a paradigm I had confirmed for me the day we found out about Parker’s impending arrival. That, David, is the closes thing in this life to real magic.

I’ve grown very accustomed to having you near me nearly every single second of every single day. That sort of bonding sort of spoils you; sort of lulls you into thinking our closeness to each other will always be so literal. But today you are start work on the first chapter of the book of your own life. Your world is about to change forever, and over the next thirteen years your mom and I will lose more and more of our ability to shelter you from the harshness of life. By the time you head off to college (and you ARE GOING TO FINISH), you will be challenging the beast on your own horse.

It’s frightening to me David that this next step is already upon us. Your potential is truly unlimited, so I’m not frightened about your success; I think it’s inevitable. It’s frightening that the first chapter is already closing. It’s a total cliche, but the time really did just move very quickly. I fear these next dozen or so years may move at the same pace. For someone as panic-stricken over mortality as your old man is, this quickening of time is not fucking cool at all.

You won’t read this for a long time, so I’ll excuse my self for the “F” bomb.

But I’m bound and determined to enjoy every moment that I can with you, from here on out. If it’s going to whiz by anyway, I’m going to clasp my fingers as tightly as I can around every opportunity to share time and memories with you that I can. It’s going to get annoying to you in about eight or nine years though. Don’t expect me to stop doing it even then. You are a true gift to me, and one that I continue to cherish forever.

You are going to face obstacles; everyone else will and does. But I have learned much about you these last few years, and one of those things I learned is that you are absolutely tenacious. Your mind is a steel trap, and always been. You are ridiculously and almost obscenely analytical, already. I’m blown away constantly at how much you retain, and how much you’re able to figure out for yourself. I will keep marveling at your dedication to being creative, too. You play and imagine with the best of them, and I hope music and movies and art remains a major part of your life, no matter what you end up doing to make money.

I want to take this moment to remind the future David that you have been telling your mom and I for the last few months that you intend to live with us forever and ever. I think that will be a point of many laughs for all of us in about 20 years. Just so you know, deep down, your mom and I probably wouldn’t mind that being the case. But you have to get better and cleaning your room first.

I’m closing this little time capsule of a missive with some words from my favorite Beatle, and therefore very truthfully my favorite musician of all time. It’s a song I sing to you and your brother sometimes, and I always think of you two when it comes on.

Beautiful Boy
by John Lennon

Close your eyes
Have no fear
The monster’s gone
He’s on the run and your daddy’s here

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep
Say a little prayer
Every day in every way
It’s getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess we’ll both just have to be patient
‘Cause it’s a long way to go
A hard row to hoe
Yes it’s a long way to go
But in the meantime