Thursday, July 14, 2016

Will You Always Be This Way?

Will you always be this way? I hope so.

I hope you will always look at the world the way you did here in this picture, at the "Ocean Voyager" exhibit in the Georgia Aquarium, with the same curiosity and fascination as when you picked up a giant grasshopper, and called a cactus "devil's club," because that's the thorniest plant we have in Alaska.

Will you always be this way? I hope so.

I hope you will always show the sensitivity to other people and presence of mind you did when you were three, and you sat down next to my butch lesbian friend, and unsure of her gender and knowing it wasn't polite to ask, turned to her and said simply, "Soooo . . . I have a penis. What do you have?" in a hilarious attempt to both gather information and show some decorum.

Will you always be this way? I hope so.

I hope you will always love animals and all living things like you do now, and ask if you can pet people's dogs, hold them on your lap, give them treats, and immediately put down anything you're doing to feed your frog or water your bean plant or look for "creatures" in a tide pool, and that you will always want to "save the 40 Javan rhinos that are left" when you grow up.

Will you always be this way? I hope so.

I hope you will always ask what words mean, say "I have two comments. One ... Two ..." and try to understand the news, like this morning when we were listening to the radio, and you asked what an "acre" was, and how and why wildfires happen.

Will you always be this way? I hope so. 

I hope you will always have the energy to run literally everywhere you go, fly a Styrofoam glider, kick a soccer ball, and ski "like a maniac," because your body "was built for crazy stuff."

Will you always be this way? I hope so. 

I hope you will always cry at sad movies, and when you are frustrated for not "catching air" on your skis, but maybe not necessarily when you lose at Candy Land or have a microscopic scratch on your big toe. 

Surely you won't always sleep with your favorite stuffed animal, a dog named Pork Chop. You will probably get too old to laugh when I do "tickle squid" and turn my hands into tickling squids, and you will definitely get too heavy for me to lie down and balance you on my feet and pretend to fly you around when we play "flying airplane." But hopefully you will always laugh that hard at all the truly funny things.

They told me you were a girl, but they were wrong; and I was scared because I didn't think I would know how to be your mom, and maybe I don't. But I'm so glad they were wrong. 

Will you always be my amazing, funny, sensitive and sweet little boy, even when you're old? 

I hope so.

3 comments:

  1. A lovely essay. I enjoy your writing very much. Thanks.

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  2. That made my eyes water. Little boys are the best and the worst.

    ReplyDelete