To Johan on the Occasion of Your 7th Birthday

Dear Johan:

Seven years old! There is no denying that you are a big kid now. You stand tall at 50 inches (and even taller with your new faux-hawk). You never cease to amaze me with your bright toof-less grin, your quirky sense of humor, and the love and empathy I see pour out of you every day. I often ask you at bed time what I did to deserve such a wonderful son. You always answer that we were meant to be. When we have bad days, we remind each other that some days are diamonds and some days are stones. But for me, every day I’m your mama is better than diamonds. This year saw lots of changes for us. Some were wonderful. Some broke our hearts. Through everything you have shown amazing grace.

We planned a wedding together – you, me and Dad. We chose chocolate cake and you wore a fancy vest and dancing shoes. We stood in front of our friends and family in a circle and promised to love each other and treat each other with respect and always listen to each other and always do our best for each other.   All 3 of us exchanged rings – although yours is currently missing somewhere on the living room/dance floor! Our family and friends celebrated with us as we made the family that is just right for us with Andrew. You had the best dance moves on the floor- even catching the attention of our friend and one of your favorite artists, Doomtree Collective member Dessa. Your confidence when you are dancing or telling jokes is so fun to watch. I love to look at your face as you check for your audience’s reaction.

When we sit down at dinner and hold hands to say grace, I think of the circle that we made holding hands at the wedding. Every day when we talk about our days and when we read aloud after dinner and when we collect rocks at the park and when we snuggle up with a movie and popcorn, we are keeping our promise to one another. And I promise you this, Johan, you are loved beyond measure and you always will be. This is our forever.

As we were settling into summer, still riding high on our wedding celebration, your Uncle David died. He struggled with addiction for a long time, and we had talked about how sick it can make people. None of us expected him to be gone, though.  I can’t remember ever feeling as much pain as I have this year and I am 33 years old. You were only 6. You and David had a cosmic connection- your love for one another was pure and good. I see so much of his sense of humor in you. It was hard for me to explain this horrible loss to you. When an old person dies, grown-ups can explain to kids the cycle of life. It doesn’t quite work that way when you have to say goodbye to a 27 year old. We have been grieving this year and I am so proud of the emotional maturity you have shown. The day we found out he died, I stepped out of the car and fell to my knees crying. You rushed to me and we sat in the driveway for a long time hugging. You were a six year old that understood that families take care of one another; that sometimes adults don’t feel strong and that you have the ability to comfort someone else, even when you are also sad. At Uncle David’s funeral, you saw your grandpa break down in tears during a beautiful, sad song. Without prompting or hesitation, you slipped out of the pew and crawled into Grandpa’s lap and held him close, stroking his hair. You were the ray of sunshine for the whole Lund family as we grieved. You showed us that there is no shame or need for apology when we cry. There is only need for hugging.

You asked me soon after David died what he would eat in heaven because Uncle David loves to eat. I thought for minute and I said that my Grandpa and Grandma were there waiting for him and they would make sure he always had plenty of frozen pepperoni pizza and peach sauce. They would play cards and listen to Perry Como sing Christmas songs and have banana popsicles. Your question helped me so much, Johan. It helped me know that David was ok and that my Grandma and Grandpa were there to take care of him, because that’s what families do. Since the funeral, you have helped keep David’s memory alive. We tell stories about how David would let Bergie lick his teeth. We sing the Lobster Shanty song and laugh about how David loved the Lobster Shanty so much that he was going to marry it. We know it’s ok to miss him and to cry sometimes. We try to be gentle with one another and to remember how lucky we are to have each other.

You started first grade at Kenwood School this year. Each morning you jump out of bed ready to tackle the day. You insist that we leave the house promptly at 7am so you can be first in line at the bus stop. You are a superstar reader and mathematician. I love being in the car with you or walking down the street, and all of a sudden you can read a sign that you could not just the week before! You are beginning to understand how reading opens up a whole new world to you. You are learning to play the piano. You create gorgeous paintings of fall leaves. You are getting the hang of using a computer mouse. You love dodgeball. You like to “wing it” on sharing days when you take the microphone and explain one of your treasures to your classmates. You are learning African drumming with Brother Ghana. You are learning about art history. Your teacher told me that while other kids could talk about colors or shapes in the art work, you pointed out how the lines showed the intricate life cycle of a butterfly and how the color contributes to the story of  the metamorphosis. In. Those. Words. Each day when I get home from work, I can’t wait to see and hear what you’ve learned- a new dance, a new chord, a new word, a new concept.

 You have made good friends who understand you. When Jasper came over for a play date, he brought you a picture of him eating a taco with ham and raisins in it. You both rolled on the floor laughing at this. It made my heart soar.  Keep friends like that to you close.

You became a swimming fish this summer. You spent so much time in the water. Now you can jump off the high dive and get yourself to the edge. You can swim across the pool in the deep end. You can dive for coins and rings and you have almost got a summersault mastered. You started karate in January and you have shown great commitment. You have earned 5 different belts this year and have now moved up to the big kids class. Karate has changed you: physically your balance and strength have improved. Your push-ups are now actual push-ups rather than your version of “the worm.” You have also shown commitment to the principles of your karate school- “might for right!” You practice karate with commitment. You also demonstrate maturity by not using karate outside of the studio. The look I see in your narrowed, focused eyes when learning a new kick or stance in karate is powerful. That determination will take you wherever you decide to go. I won’t always be able to just stand behind the glass partition with my coffee in hand smiling as you take on new challenges. But I know that you will always have that same determined look in your big brown eyes. That, together with your wise brain and your good heart, will serve you well.

Johan, this year has had more ups and downs than some grownups can handle. Yet, you, a 6 year old, have handled everything beautifully and still remained a spunky, goofy kiddo with a sparkle in your eye. I am so glad I get to be with you on this journey. I am so proud I am your mama. I am so proud of the person you are. You like to ask about my favorites a lot and sometimes I don’t know. Who is my favorite super hero? Uhmmm…Spider Man, I guess. What is my favorite color? I suppose turquoise. But when you ask who my favorite person in the whole wide world is? That one is easy. It’s you, Johan. Always has been. Always will be. I love you to Jupiter and to the next galaxy where the stars get stuck. Happy Birthday to you, bear.

Love,
Mom