One of the reasons I created a blog was to capture this time when my sons are young. So I’m excited to join a group of friends as we share about the boys in our lives on the third Friday of each month. You can follow our blog circle to Jacqui’s letter to her adorable boy, and continue all the way through the blog circle.
All of these photos were taken on my iPhone, because that’s just how we roll these days…I love them not for the quality of light or composition, but for the bit of our story they capture.
Can I just say, for the record, how in awe I am of how you have handled all the changes of the past few months? We all found it difficult to leave Moab, but you most of all. At first you were adamant that you weren’t going to move. I’m so grateful that, as upset as you were, you were able to articulate so well how you felt, what you thought, and share that with your dad and me. When we came back from our house-hunting trip, you said to me, “I feel like two people, because during the day I get excited about the move and a new house, and then at night I just get sad again.” I felt the same way, but you put it in words so well.
At the same, you started the whole new world of middle school, ie: locker combinations, six different teachers, a schedule and lots more to master. You’re up every morning at 6 AM for your shower, followed by a hot cup of tea and bacon with toast. You’re getting the habit of using the daily planner to remember homework. You’re home a good hour before brothers---and I so enjoy that time to talk with you, to hear not so much about your day but usually about your next idea, a funny story you read, or big plans you have.
I was trying to think what helped you make all these transitions so well. One big blessing, for all of us, has been having so much time with our favorite people during our first month in a new place. We’d had fun with my old friend Kris and her kids who live nearby, and your beloved Gramare came to stay with us. Your favorite uncle met us in San Francisco, and we actually got to share a house with the Rockows for a few days in Point Reyes. Your godmother Angie always lights up for you, and Mary Alice, just days after we all celebrated her wedding, gave us a personal tour of what you now like to refer to as your “future place of employment,” Pixar.
I think it’s helped that Golden is such a beautiful place, that you’ve had our dog Duke along for the whole ride, that the library is just down the street from our rental, that you have your own room for the very first time, and that you’ve had your own goals to work toward (first: to save for your own iMac; second: to convince your parents to let you watch “Terminator”).
Mostly though, I think it comes down to you. You’ve chosen to have a positive attitude, and to focus on the good things. You’ve risen to new responsibilities and freedoms. You’ve been a big help to me personally, whether it be walking Duke or carrying a vacuum up three floors! You look out for your brothers, and they look out for you. The other day we brought cookies to our local fire station, continuing a tradition we had for years in Moab. We weren’t expecting to spend more than a minute saying thanks, but the volunteer fire fighter delighted in showing us their trucks and station. I know you felt you were too old for the tour, but you rose to the occasion. While your brothers were shy and silent, you listened intently and told him how cool you thought his work was. That generosity of spirit is what I appreciate most about you, Aidan.
As we were leaving, the fire fighter asked what you thought of Golden. “It’s awesome,” you replied. Then he asked, “Better than where you came from?” And you said, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
You’ve already come so far, and I’m grateful.
More than all the stars,