Dear Johan:
On November 15, 2015, you will be 8 years old! Eight!
There is something about eight that is very special- and it’s more than
the fact it rhymes with GREAT. As you grow, it is extraordinary to see your
independence and confidence bloom. I
love to see you form relationships, opinions, and a world view. It was a wonderful adventure to be you mom
during age seven and we are ready to take on eight!
We celebrated your seventh birthday with a trip to Disney
World with Kitties Grandma and Grandpa.
We ate calamari on Thanksgiving and started every morning with waffles
in the shape of Mickey Mouse. We raced
down waterslides and rode Pirates of the Caribbean over and over. I hoisted all sixty pounds of you up onto my
shoulders so you could see the parade.
And it was okay that you dropped cotton candy in my hair. We watched fireworks over the iconic castle
and felt raindrops on our faces. As is
prone to happen in Florida, those rain drops soon were a torrential
downpour. So we stood in the rain and
watched the water play with the colors of the fireworks. We held hands and laughed at our soaking wet
selves. Even surrounded by thousands of
people clamoring for space under an awning, we knew that we were the only ones
there; just our family laughing in the
rain. These are the moments of travel
that I cherish the most. There are no
pictures of us drenched under a brilliantly lit up rainy Orlando night but I
can feel your little hand in mine and I can hear the squish of our shoes and my
heart is happy.
In January, you were chosen for a part in Kenwood School’s
Martin Luther King, Jr. celebration. You
were so excited to participate in honoring one of your heroes. You bit your lip before they handed you the
microphone to recite your part. When it
was your turn to talk, you spoke clearly and confidently: “I have a
dream.” Then you set the microphone down
and crossed one arm over the other, joining hands with your classmates and sang “We Shall Overcome.” It was one of the
most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
A couple weeks later, your littlest
brother-from-another-mother was born in Flagstaff, Arizona. You and I took a mother/son trip to Arizona
to get to know little Caleb. We flew to
Phoenix and rented a car to drive to Flagstaff.
You and I are not used to mountain driving, but with each other’s
company and the stark, eerily gorgeous red rocks and mountains surrounding us,
we made our way to Sarah, Charlie, and Caleb.
As you held Caleb on your lap, you showed such incredible gentleness
with him. You stroked his cheek and
smiled at him and fed him a bottle. You
talked to him and he was calm and happy sitting with you. Even though we live far away from them, I
hope that you and Caleb will have the kind of relationship that we have always
had with Sarah. Miles and months can
pass, but when we are together, all is just as it should be. Even when you were a baby, you seemed to
remember Sarah from visit to visit and there was a closeness that permeated
time and space. Caleb has brought even
more love to the mix and I look forward to seeing the two of you form your own
connection.
Summer brought more changes to our family. Dad left Comcast after several years to start
his own business. This gave him more flexibility in his schedule and meant that
you mostly got to stay home this summer. As a self-declared “homebody,” you
were thrilled with this. Of course, you
also spent your summer days on little adventures with your Grandmas and
Grandpas and attending baseball and theater camps. You played baseball for the Kenwood Purple
Dragons and you thought of the team name!
It is such a joy to sit in the sweet springtime grass sipping a warm
coffee and watching you play baseball.
There is no way I’d rather spend a Saturday morning. One day, you made an awesome catch in the
outfield that you even surprised yourself.
Your eyes got so big as you realized the ball was in your glove. Everyone cheered. You later told me you were sure that Uncle
David must have given you a boost. Your
honest and loving way of processing death and loss are beyond words. You speak of David sometimes and I know you
think of him frequently. We point out
food he would enjoy and we make jokes in his silly voices. You ask to hear stories about times we spent
with him. Your favorite story of Uncle David is when we stood outside the
Minneapolis/St. Paul airport on a snowy night waiting for a ride and David sang "Hey Jude" at the top of his lungs. And
you love it when I remind you that you were there too, singing right along with
him.
Your moment in the spotlight for MLKJ day peaked your
interest in performing and you spent time this summer at Children’s Theater in
a performing camp. You also decided you
wanted to try modelling, which resulted in you being hired twice (so far!) by Target. That’s your animated and beautiful face on
page 40 of the Target Holiday Catalogue 2015!
Your job was to play with Elves Legos as part of their new
gender-neutral toy advertising approach.
You love Legos but told us that you would have preferred Star Wars
Legos. I pointed out to you that there are
certainly both boys and girls that prefer Star Wars and also both boys and
girls that prefer to play with the Elves.
I explained that sometimes the way toys are advertised makes it seem
like something is just for boys or just for girls. And if there is a little boy out there who
wants to play with Elves Legos, maybe seeing a cool kid like you enjoying them
will give him the boost of confidence he needs to just be himself. You
stood up a little taller at that thought and said “Well, that is something worth
doing!” You are so right, Johan. Putting more kindness and acceptance into the
world is always something worth doing and you have a wonderful way of doing it.
This fall you chose to begin guitar lessons when Bergen
Grandpa talked with you about the things playing an instrument can do for your
brain. You play a wooden half-size
acoustic guitar that fits your fingers perfectly. My favorite instrument to hear is the
acoustic guitar and hearing you play brings me great joy. I hope that you continue to enjoy playing.
Music can be so therapeutic both for the artist and the listener. Your hands and brain working together to make
beautiful music is something I hope you will love for your whole life.
You decided to re-start Spanish classes this year. You told us it was mostly because Dad said
you’ll need a second language for college so you might as well start now. Between your papa moving back to the Dominican
Republic and then a difficult experience at the Spanish immersion
school, you had developed some sad associations with Spanish. I am so proud of the way you have worked
through those. You took the time to think and feel your way
to a place where you know that Spanish is beautiful and that communicating in
various languages is such a fulfilling experience. And that Spanish is part of you. You are part of a rich and beautiful Dominican
culture and the Spanish language is integral to that. You should always be proud of the varied
fabrics that make up your heritage.
The part that surprised you about this experience is that a
lot of Spanish is already in that big head of yours. It has been extraordinary to see those parts
of your brain wake up again. The Spanish
teachers were shocked by the smooth roll of the R off your tongue and the fluid
way you are able to put together sentences.
Plus, as a lover of Spanish, it’s fun for me to be able to work with you
on increasing your fluency. Now we just
have to teach Dad!
Johan, age seven has been an absolute blast. You are my big kid and I love to spend time with
you. I love when we kick back on the
couch and watch Napoleon Dynamite and say the lines in time with the
characters. "Eat your food, Tina!" I love walking around our neighborhood with
you while you tell knock-knock jokes. I love when we play board games and
listen to Disney radio on Pandora and you try to skip the love songs but you
always let me listen to the ones from “Tangled” because you know that's my favorite. I love when we cook together
and you provide a new way to think about an old recipe.
And that is the amazing gift you give to us every day,
Johan. You provide a new way to think
about everything. Every color is brighter;
every sound is sweeter; every experience is richer with you. I always call you “my little bear” and of
course that’s true. But you don’t really
belong to me. You belong to the world
and it is my great privilege to get to walk with you as you discover that
world.
Happy Birthday to you, my little bear. I love you more than fireworks in the night
sky and more than the and more than spring grass and sunshine.
Love, Mom
