Dear Harrison



Dear Harrison,

I wanted to say how proud I am of you for getting past that great hurdle in life known as Kindergarten. You're teaching said you were such a wonderful student this year, which doesn't surprise me a bit. You are a good boy. I laughed when told me that you were nervous about the graduation ceremony, but I knew would do fine once you got on stage for your diploma. I can see you standing up there with that tight-lipped smile of yours as I write this. 

Hope you liked the pictures of you I sent for the school to use in your class's slide show - one baby pic and a recent one just like they asked. It took me several hours to decide on which ones. But I finally picked one that showed what a happy baby you were even when you had all that reflux junk that kept you up at night, and then I would rock you back to sleep in that glider next to the bed. The other photo was from this summer after swimming at Grandma and Grandpa's - I think it really captures your charm and mischievousness.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see the ceremony for myself. You're teacher told me she would try finding someone who tape it for me, but I haven't heard if she was able to or not. But hey, at least we got to talk right before. And yes, I really did call solely to tell you good luck - no strategy conversations with your older brother Noah or taking new toy requests from you little brother Sawyer. I just wanted to talk to you, buddy.

Yes, I miss you too, and it was very generous of you to offer me all your money (five dollars and seventy-eight cents if I recall correctly) so I could use it to move near you. It was also kind to offer for me to live with you again. I know it's confusing when you ask me why I don't stay with you anymore. I know my answer about how your mommy and I get along better this way doesn't make any sense at all. It's a cliche' for me to tell you that you'll understand more when you're older, but you'll figure it all out along with a whole bunch of other stuff I can't tell ever you about. But you're a smart boy, like you're old man - smarter even (I only went half days in Kindergarten so you're already twice as smart as me when I was your age.). 

For now, keep praying like you said you have been - that God will help me find a way back to you and your brothers. Don't worry; it will happen when it's supposed to. Sometimes we can't have what we want because it's just not the right time - like trying to ride your bike before it's all put together. The whole thing falls apart before you can enjoy it.

Well, I'm going to let you get back to playing with your brothers. Stay away from all them girls you keep telling me about. Girls are trouble. And don't let your mom figure out that you've been pretending to sleep during mass so you won't have to listen to the homily - I mean it's a good plan and all, but don't get caught (I used to do the same thing). 

One more thing. I love you. 

- Dad



PS. I know you're too young to read my blog Harrison, and your mom probably wouldn't let you anyway, but maybe one day you'll come across this while doing research for a paper or checking sports scores. Maybe it will be just what you need to hear from you're dad. And maybe these guys will still be cool, and this song will make sense. It's good advice. 

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