My son, I wasn’t going to write about you this year.
Can you believe that?
After last year, I thought that I would just let the celebration of you, the pain of you
but I can’t.
I thought that I would want to do something big for your 10th birthday -
what would you have enjoyed, I wonder.
Your sisters suggested that ten was a time for laser tag and game park parties
or going bowling
or something like that.
We sat around the dinner table and pondered for a long time,
talked about memories of our own tenth birthdays and wondered how Ivy and Noah might spend theirs.
It was comforting.
I thought that I wanted butterflies on your birthday but it turns out I don’t.
What I want is to be with everyone
- so I can feel whole,
while I remember that a big piece of my heart is always missing.
I want the sunrise of your tenth year
and the sunset
because I can’t have you
and so, that is what we’re doing, my boy, to celebrate your tenth birthday.
I am going to walk along the beach and feel the wind whisper to me
about my blonde haired, long legged imaginings of you
and hope that I can see you in the clouds.
Happy birthday, Will.