Safe to say, we all want the same for our children – that they feel loved and valued, that they respect themselves and others, and that they be resilient. If you’re lucky enough to see your child become a parent, you’re in for a treat. You get to watch from the sidelines as they learn what it means to give selflessly, to love from the very deepest place in their hearts, and to hopefully practice the best of what you strove to impart.
My older son spent a month at his in-laws home in San Malo, France recently, and toward the end of the month, he wrote his ten month old son a letter. He was kind enough to let me share it with you here:
Luca my boy.
What a wonderful trip we just had together. You were a bit sick when it started. You had an ear infection and lots of wax in your ears. Your teeth have been coming in. You have two top and two bottom now. Changing timezones is never easy and it took you a while to adjust. But when all of that was over, you again shone as your happy self. We got to spend a lot of time together, especially in the mornings before the rest of the house was awake. Your mother needs her sleep. When I would hear you whimper or cry, sometimes waking me up, I would come into your room and pick you up out of your crib, still in your sleep sac, and you would nuzzle against me, happy that I was the one to get you and confident that a bottle was near. Well, sometimes not so patient if you were really hungry. But more often I recall you giggling as I made the bottle. After some milk, I would change your diaper and dress you, we’d go back into the kitchen where I’d put you on the floor to crawl a bit and say hi to your stuffed animal friends. The bear. The otter. The lamb. But you were more interested in the wicker baskets with the chestnuts, turning them this way and that as you lay on your back. You have a strong grip. One day you reached for a weight used for an old scale that I hadn’t even noticed. You pulled it off the shelf, allowing it to fall the 4 or 5 inches to the ground, thankfully not onto your hand or fingers. It was surprisingly heavy and would have undoubtedly broken some bones. Was another lesson for me in paying attention to your new abilities and wide-eyed curiosity. But on an average morning, I would make the coffee, maybe sweep the floor, put away the dishes… I would pick you up and we would open the curtains as the darkness outside began to turn to light. One day I explained the passage of days and years by circumnavigating the dinning table with you in my arms, spinning around and around. We’re the earth and every time we see the table it’s like the sun coming up and night turning to day. You liked the spinning, or maybe just being in my arms. I loved spending the mornings with you. Eventually it was time to wake up mommy. We would go into the bedroom and I’d put you in bed next to her and you would reach out to touch her face, never gently. Doucement, doucement, comme ça, she would say as she took your hand and stroked her face with it. If I remember nothing else from this trip, may it be these mornings.
The world can be burning or flooding due to climate change, while wars and dire poverty bring undue suffering to millions…yet, sometimes, somehow…I'm lucky enough to bask in the pleasure of moments like this.
Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!
