Skip to main content

an open letter to my sons at the beginning of a school year


to my children,

as i sit and string these words together, you are both sleeping, your bodies still but for the rising of your chests with each little breath.  as i look at you in your beautiful sleep, i often wonder what is happening inside your heads.  are you dreaming?  and if so, is it in color?  do you dream about dinosaurs and batman and scooby-doo?  do your minds race with the jumbled juxtaposition of the images that fill your brains all day, or are your brains as serene as your soft-looking sleep? 

these questions have been pushing me a bit harder the last few days because both of you have started school.  you've both entered the world of giant square brick buildings full of charts and handouts and chocolate milk in little cardboard boxes and educational dvd's (i used to have filmstrips, but that's a whole 'nother story).  you've crossed the threshold into a realm that smells like crayons and pencil shavings mixed with floor wax and cafeteria pizza. 

as you can tell, there is alot going on in school.  there are so many sights and sounds and smells.  so much to do.  so much to experience.  so much to inspire curiosity and sometimes even anxiety.  in short: there is so much to learn.  and that's why i'm writing these words to you.  because by the time you're old enough to read them or to really care what they say, i hope you haven't forgot how fun it is to learn.  the smells might change from "eau-de-crayola" to the combination of heavily-overused junior high colognes, and the work might change from worksheets to essays, but the goal is still the same: to discover all there is to learn about this amazing thing called life. 

last night we read a book about weather.  it is a book with 3-D pictures, and so as i read it you both had to alternate your turn with the blue and red lenses to see the images of hurricanes, tornadoes, and lightning.  and as we turned each page to discover the secrets it had to offer, you both asked me questions.  you wanted to know about the pictures and about wind and about clouds and vacuums and temperatures.  you're still trying to make sense of this great big world that is just teeming with mystery.  and i am hoping - even praying - that you never stop doing that.  it is the deep desire of this daddy that you never stop learning, and never stop wanting to learn; that you continue to ask questions (you don't have to ask "why?" after every sentence though, cade!).  that you continue to be unsatisfied with unthoughtful answers.  that you continue to apply the things you've learned to new experiences.  that you continue to wrestle with all the stimuli and information and images and worksheets and math problems and blank pages that life throws at you.  and that you just never stop learning.

as i watch your rib cages rise and fall with each rhythmic breath, i am overwhelmed with your peace and your innocent beauty.  but my joy is almost immediately accompanied by a heavy anxiety because i know that the world will rob you of some of that peace and innocence.  and so i pray over you.  i pray that even in these days, as you trace and color and paint and count that you will find that life is not just life: it is abundant life, overflowing with possibility and hope and wonder.  and that you never lose sight of that truth.  so sleep for now, little ones.  dream of crime-solving canines and superheroes, and wake to a new opportunity to learn and live.  and love it all. 

yours forever,
daddy.

Comments

Bill Uebbing said…
I tried 3 times to read this. I am sure it ends well, but I can't see it through my tears. Your sons are lucky to have you and Shannon as parents.

Popular posts from this blog

bad haircuts (for a laugh)

everybody needs to laugh.  one good way i have found to make that happen is to do a simple google image search for 'bad haircut.'  when you do so, some of the following gems show up.  thankfully, my 9th grade school picture does NOT show up.  otherwise, it would certianly make this list!  please laugh freely and without inhibition.  thank you and have a nice day. 

happiness is dry underwear

we started potty training jack on thursday. we followed a program called POTTY TRAIN IN ONE DAY, which, by the way, i think is kind of crazy. i mean, if someone were to offer you a book called, "ACHIEVE WORLD PEACE IN ONE DAY" i don't think you would take it seriously. and yet here we are, trying to accomplish an equally daunting task in one 24-hour period. it is intense. the day is shrouded in a lie because as soon as your happily diapered child wakes up you tell him that it is a big party. we had balloons and streamers and noisemakers and silly string - all the trappings of a legitimate party. but it is most certainly not a party. it is a hellishly exhausting day. as soon as jack got out of bed, we gave him a present: an anatomically correct doll that wets himself. jack named him quincy. several times quincy successfully peed in the potty and even had an accident or two in his "big boy underwear." he also dropped a deuce that looked and smelled sus

the crucifixion of Robert Lewis

  "the crucifixion of Robert Lewis" mixed media collage with leaves, acrylic paint, and found objects by gregory a milinovich october 2023 this october i was invited to participate in a three day trip which was called a "pilgrimage of pain and hope."  while that may not sound super exciting to many of you, it actually really intrigued me.  i am the kind of person that wants to feel big feelings, and i am drawn to the deep places, so  i was interested in traveling to the scranton area, where the trip was planned, to see what it might look like to be a pilgrim that was wide-eyed and listening to the pain and the hope in the stories of others.   this trip included hearing the stories of immigrants to the northeastern pennsylvania area, and the work in the coal mines that many of them did.  it included hearing from folks who are working for housing justice and equity in downtown scranton.  it included hearing from those indigenous people who first inhabited that land.