What I Want to Give My Son

Hello, sweet friends! Thank you so much for your all your kind comments on the quilt! I am so happy to have it finished, and it was fun to show it off to my wonderful parents, who were here for the past week. It was the happiest flurry of activity: cooking and cleaning and baby rocking and walks in the stroller and, most of all, staring and smiling at our sweet baby. My parents are incredible, and this past week I saw their amazingness in a whole new way. I realized, once again, how unbelievably fortunate I am to have them in my life. Most parents want to give their children a better life than the one they had, but if I can give our son what my parents gave, and continue to give, to me, then I will consider myself to have earned an A plus at this parenting thing. I am not talking about material things, though it will be so much fun to watch Micah open presents on Christmas morning and take him to every zoo and children’s museum within a 100-mile radius. I am talking, essentially, about love. These are the things I want to give my son. These are the things my parents gave me.

A mother who is absolutely delighted to hear his voice every time he calls.

A father who proudly wallpapers his office with his artwork.

A mother who encourages him to try every little thing that he is interested in.

A father who tells him that he can be anything in the world he wants to be.

A mother who cleans toilets, cooks dinners, and always presses a $20 bill into his hand when he needs it.

A father who sends a check every month to help him make rent if he happens to be living in one of the most expensive cities in the country on a laughable graduate student salary.

A mother who fills his life with laughter and fun.

A father who tells him, when he wrecks his mother’s car three days after getting his driver’s license, that it’s just a hunk of metal and plastic, and that the important thing is that he’s okay.

A mother who will read him books all the livelong day and take him to the library whenever he wants to go.

A father who teaches him to drive stick shift, even when he accidentally runs dad’s beloved sports car up on the curb.

A mother who will let him jet off to Russia or Bosnia or wherever else he wants to go, even though it makes her nervous to have him so far away.

A father whose gentleness, patience, generosity, and persistent faith make every difficulty in life seem manageable.

Parents whose unconditional love is felt every moment of every day.

And that’s just the things they’ve done for me. Multiply that list by three to get the full effect. I could go on and on with this list of things I want to give Micah for days, but there is one thing I know I have already given him: two sets of grandparents who absolutely adore him.

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