The Thought That Counts

To my son Tommy,

There are some important backdrops to this letter. 

First and foremost is how bah humbug I have been this Christmas season. I just can’t find the spirit and tend to bring down the rest of the family in the most Grinchiest of ways. 

Second, you are on Christmas break and do not have school today. You have no set bedtime tonight. I however have work. Now usually this does mean some benefit to me as I can sleep in an extra hour because I don’t have to wake early to get you ready and commute into school and then back to work.

Third, you have a large rock collection of unusual and semi precious stones. Your internet searches on these rocks have produced both sound geological science and classifications, but also new wave folk lore on the power and meaning behind certain stones.

And finally, I don’t think you ate corn beef and cabbage last night, but whatever you did eat treats your gut in a similar fashion.

So with all that understood ... your big heart and kind concern wants to change my admittedly depressed attitude despite my warning that YOU are never responsible for someone else’s bad attitude. So last night ... you secretly taped a bunch of stones to the bottom of my pillow. Mostly quartz in hopes that their “powers” would somehow heal my aura. You also kept checking on me as I tried to lay down. About two hours after I got to sleep, I felt a rustle as you decided to sneak in bed with me because you thought it would help. 

In theory: I have a loving thoughtful Pollyanna of a son who wants desperately to help his father find Christmas.

In reality:

I was not allowed to go to sleep in a timely fashion as my pre-teen with no bedtime annoyingly checked on me every five minutes as I tried.

When I did fall asleep, I slept on ROCKS put their by said pre-teen (aka you) who has fallen for some pseudoscience New Age mumbo jumbo about their “healing” powers.

I was awoken multiple times throughout my sleep, once when you “snuck” in bed and throughout the night as you rolled around and once, right as I finally got in a deep and restful piece of sleep, with a swift kick to my testicles.

The final awakening was caused by an amazingly loud passing of gas that startled me so bad I awoke confused wondering if I needed to run upstairs and make sure your Grandma Roro had not fallen. 

The stench that even permeated my full face cpap mask alerted me to the real situation and at least put my mind to ease that it wasn’t Roro.

It is now 5:45 AM and instead of sleeping in I have woke earlier than a school day because who can sleep in that stench!

As I ready myself for an early work day, what comes to mind is the oldest and wisest of Christmas traditions and saying. “It is the thought that counts!” Somehow through that debacle last night, I have found just a little bit of Christmas. At least I sure am going to fake it because who knows what your next attempt will include. I could wake up to an egg nog water boarding session while you try to shove candy canes up my backside. Now get the rocks out of my effing bed!

Merry Christmas!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Camp 2019 Letter Three

To my son Tommy,

It is Wednesday 26 June 2019 as I write this letter. I took a day off from writing you because I figured you might be getting too many letters that take away from your camp time. I know Mommy wrote a letter or two and so did Roro and your Bwama. Even your Great Great Aunt Cindy is going to write you.

Yesterday the camp nurse called. Turns out you are allergic to horses. Who knew? Honestly we didn't even consider it. Here is a picture of you on a little horse (or maybe it was a pony) when you were younger. No issues that I remember from that day with any of the barnyard animals. But this time you broke out in hives.

During the incident, the nurse asked what it felt like the last time you needed EPI. You said it felt like this. You never needed an EPI pen injection (knock on wood) in your life so far. We were close once when you tried beef and ran you to the emergency room, but even then we dosed you with benadryl and made it to the ER before having to give you the EPI pen. Be careful with the dramatic flare. Administering an EPI pen means a definite trip to the hospital and probably "game over" for camp. So don't go for the sympathy drama. Sure it nice to have someone show you that concern, but unintended consequences await down that path. The nurse (who is most excellent) gave you a couple chewable benadryl  and kept you with her and you cleared up in an hour or so.

The silver lining (other than you being okay and learning that you are allergic) is that your mom got report on you. The nurse said, as far as home sickness or such, that you are having no problems. You seem to be adjusting and having the time of your life. Sorry you can't ride anymore while you are there, but I imagine you will still find plenty of fun things to occupy your time. Make the best of it!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Camp 2019 Letter Two

To my son Tommy,

It is Monday 24 June 2019. As I write this letter, it has been just over 30 hours since we sent you off to camp. Mommy is itching to call the camp nurse and make sure you are doing okay. Not sure how much longer she can hold out. Mommy wrote her own letter today and just mailed it. Mine will go out tomorrow and probably get to you a day later. I figure by Thursday at the latest.

Anyways, typical dad thinking, I figure no news is good news and you are adjusting well. They will call if there is a problem. Otherwise, I can wait for the full after report when you come home. But I do miss you. Zoe dog does too. Look how pathetic she looks with no one to cuddle with at night. Okay the lighting sucks on the picture but she really does mope at night. Plus she can't write letters to you to make herself feel better. She has been extra cuddly with Mommy to make up for missing you.

It is funny what you think about when you miss someone. I was driving to work today and a Bob Marley song came on the radio. It made me think of all those drives to school where I introduced you to some of daddy's music. I pictured you waking up from your bunk and going on your cabin porch and seeing a couple birds tweeting away at you. Made me smile. If you get lonely, sing the Three Little Birds song, and think of our time together, and smile and know it will happen again soon. Then go back to enjoying your new friends and adventures.

Of course, you are never really alone. Your Grandpa Leo is your acting Guardian Angel and there with you. He is used to that camping stuff. Of course when he did it he had machine guns, and tanks, and half-tracks, and a full Army support element. But if the song doesn't make you feel better, say the Guardian Angel prayer.

Don't forget to wear your sunscreen and bug spray. Keep your hat on when you can. Drink lots of water.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Camp 2019 Letter One

To my son Tommy,

It is not often I write something that I actually send to you to read right away. I have tons of letters written to you that I am sure one day you will read, but they are best left for later in your life. I figured this needs to hit the mail tomorrow.

I am writing this letter on Sunday the 23rd of June 2019, though you will probably get this letter Tuesday or Wednesday. Today, we dropped you off at Camp Puh’tok for two weeks. Just last night you were already lamenting (that means feeling bad about) that camp weeks are not full weeks and you won’t get 14 days there. Just think, you hadn’t even completed your first night and you already wanted to stay another day. But I think you will do okay with just 13 days!

After we left you at your cabin, with a whole ton of instruction that you half absorbed, your mom was muttering to herself, “He’ll be alright. He’ll be alright.” Mothers are like that, constantly worrying about their baby boys. As for your old man… well I know you will be alright because you have already grown into such a fine young man with a kind heart and a good head on your shoulders. I envy the fun and adventure you are about to enjoy.

Turns out the Morales family, Mr. Joe and Mrs. Brooks who you have met a couple times, are sending their daughter Iszy there next week. She is heading into the eighth grade next year, so she will most likely be in your cousin Ryan’s group. It is her first time as well. Try to say hi and make her feel welcomed and show her the ropes. You will be a seasoned veteran with a full week under your belt by the time she gets there! I think Mommy wants to send you her picture, so you can keep an eye out for her. She might include it in this letter, or she might write one herself.

I love you. I miss you already. Try to remember everything mom told you, but most importantly…HAVE FUN! I am very proud of you, my son, and will see you soon.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Constant

To my son Tommy,

You have been in this world for a decade now (tomorrow). During the past ten years, things have changed, as most things do. 

People have come and gone from our lives. We have grieved those losses, thankful for the blessed time we had with them. We have embraced those newcomers, such as your baby twin sisters and the joy they give. You have become a big brother and a great one at that!

You have grown so much. Physically, you have come so far from the baby I held to become the handsome young lad before me. You have learned so much, not just in school, but in life; Not just in your brain, but in your heart. Your interests have changed from Sesame Street and stuffed animals, to YouTube stars and nerf guns, with stops on a million different flights of fancy along the way.

Last night, after baking some cupcakes with your mom, you came upstairs to the nursery where I was half asleep on the couch watching your baby sisters. I pried open one eye and asked you how the baking went. You came over as you said "Good" and then proceeded to lay right on top of me and wrap your arms around me and snuggle. It has been a long time since you snuggled with me. I thought the changes in your world, the ten years of hard knocks, may have precluded a snuggle session with your daddy. Sure you snuggle with your mom all the time, but mommies are easier to snuggle with, as is evident by the picture of you and your mom snuggling this morning.

I smiled with my lips and deep in my heart and said, "I love you. And I am so proud of you. You are a good boy, a good son, a good brother, and a good person."

You replied, "Even when I forget things?"

You forget many things, as ten year old boys often do. I spend much of my parenting life reminding you of those things and I usually end my chastising with "Try to do better next time" as I whisper in my head to myself "Try to be patient and remember to praise when he does remember next time."

I responded, "I will always love you and you make me so proud, even when you forget. And no matter how big you get, you will always be my baby boy"

You snuggled tighter and said, "I know." My heart lifted even more. You see, my son, though they say "The only thing in life that is constant is change" and the years have brought us plenty of change, there is one more thing that is constant and only changes by becoming greater and greater beyond imagination. That, my dearest Tommy, is my love for you and your mother's love for her baby boy. Happy birthday. I hope tomorrow is a great one!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo