Konnichiwa, Emmett.
Today at lunch I sat on the sofa in our living room and held you for a while. You squirmed and thrashed and teetered to and fro on your back like you were fighting off a swarm of no-see-ums. It was pretty amazing to look into your eyes and wonder about what must be going through your mind. And all that movement got me thinking about your life and what it might hold for you.
I guess every parent probably experiences at least a small level of anxiety about what the world is going to be like for his child, how that child will find its way. It makes a certain kind of sense to want the stars and the moon for you. Success is a difficult thing to define, let alone attain, and you could waste a lot of your life trying to get things that might ultimately be unsatisfying. As I watched your wrinkly little bowed legs kick in the air this afternoon, I thought of what I want for you. And it is this: A warm summer night full of fireflies coasting on the moist air. The sounds of your friends’ voices carrying across the neighborhood. The muted pounding of your bare feet in the dewy grass as you run as fast as you can through the falling darkness, legs stretching as your stride lengthens to keep you always on the very edge of toppling headlong into a jumble of tanned limbs and tousled hair. As fast as you can.
Talk to you soon, Em.