Dear Jack
Much like every other damn thing in my life right now, I’m late on your birthday letter. Yesterday you turned 7. Holy smokes, that was fast. I can hardly believe you will be baptized next year and therefore finally accountable. I’m looking forward to that long awaited nap, or eating bonbons all day. Hey it’s all on your head then.

So you’ve conquered first grade this year, on the honor roll. You’ve developed a love of soccer, and you continue to play baseball, coaches pitch this year. You have further developed into a pretty scrawny little cherub at roughly four foot tall and 45 pounds.

You are currently into wearing one black sock and one white sock under your skateboarding shoes. Why I have no idea and you have yet to sufficiently explain it to me. I guess it’s just one of those mysteries we may never understand. You also participate in the annoying habit of not wearing shorts that don’t cover your knees. What ever, it’s not like we live in south Louisiana or anything. Oh wait. In addition you are a play station II junkie, you would prefer to play over any other activity, accept maybe swimming. There must also be daily swimming or heads will roll I tell you.

You’ve adjusted quite well to Jacob returning home, sometimes it feels like he never really left and the whole last year and half didn’t happened. Only my bruised heart tells me different. I have to say you are part of the reason I made it through all that. Without you I would have been lost. Jack, you are such a sensitive and amazing child. Nobody gets what’s going on like you. Some times I worry about you because of that. Everyone needs time to just be a cherub. I try to make sure you get to, but you just might be too much like your father. Both of you have the ability to feel empathy for others like nothing I’ve ever seen. That’s a great quality to have. You’re going to make a fantastic husband some day, if your father is any indication. Just try to remember to put yourself first sometimes too okay?

Jack, I know I always wrap these letters up the same way; telling you how much I love you and how much having you in my life means to me. This year, I’m going to tell you how much everyone loves you, how much you mean to everyone. I am starting to realize, the older you get the more I have to share you. You make an impression on everybody you meet. Your excitement for life and caring for others coupled with your intelligence makes you pretty unforgettable. Everyone tells me so. Don’t ever loose that. I’m going to do my part to make sure you never do, but I’m gonna need a little of your help okay?

I love you so very much Jack,
mom