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What I Hope, Wish And Pray On My Son’s Sixth Birthday

I don’t tell every story of my boy on this blog because some are his stories to tell and some are boring stories only Scott would appreciate and sometimes there’s just too much to write about that week or month so a story doesn’t make it to my blog. But on his sixth birthday, I can think of no other story which illustrates who my son is than a few days after he lost his first tooth:

The tooth fairy came and gave him $2. She did not always plan to give $2 but the first and last teeth are special.
Both kids had also been saving change they found and earned to buy toys so when we reached $16, I thought it was time to shop. I gave N her $8 from their shared savings and E his $10 from their shared savings plus his tooth fairy money. My son turned to his sister and said: Here’s one of my dollars from my tooth. So we can have the same.

My heart broke for the sweetness of the moment and the gesture. I want him to always believe that sharing is better than keeping. That more is not always what we need and helping someone smile is worth more than all the money in all the world.

I want him to remember value. The value of a dollar. The value of a hug. The value of a life. I hope he always knows how precious his life is. I hope he remembers how quickly life can change. That he was a toddler not long ago and that most miracles are never further than a few cups of coffee.

I hope he knows that fear is never a good decision maker but without fear we have no need for courage. Without doubt we have no need for faith. But we are also not only dichotomies. We are sliding scales neither unique nor alike. I pray he knows what the word “dichotomy” means.

I pray he is never afraid to wear a tutu. That he never compromises who he is for who the world wants him to be. I pray he remembers that love is better than hate. For everyone. I pray he learns the difference between himself and God and he knows how big God is compared to the anger and confusion of men and women.

But most importantly, I want him to know that all I want, hope and pray for him are unattainable. He will never be okay with himself all the time. He will make bad decisions. He will hurt others. He may not care for God or people or the word “dichotomy.”

I hope he forgives himself for being too human to live up to everything I want for him. (I could never do it either, sweetie.) But I pray he always knows that I’d take him as he is, I’d take him as he wants to be, I’d take him different from who I think he is.