As part of a family history project for Jack's 7th grade Language Arts class at Academy at the Lakes, parents were asked to write a letter to their child. If you haven't ever done this for your own child, I strongly encourage it. What a wonderful gift for us both.
Jack, I have so many good memories of
you that I hardly know where to start. But how about I start with Halloween
night -- October 31, 2003?
You were not quite 3 years old but
there was no doubt what you were you going to be that night. Your
favorite TV show at the time was Bob the
Builder, and I can remember watching it with you every afternoon in the den
of our home in Greensboro, N.C.
Of course, you chose to dress up as the
man himself, Bob the Builder. This was a man who was in charge, knew how to get
things done, and was never too busy to lend a hand to friends and strangers
alike.
As the theme song says, “Bob the
Builder, can we fix it? Bob the Builder, YES WE CAN!”
Donning your blue jumpsuit and yellow
hard hat, and with a hammer by your side, you were ready to conquer anything
that came your way while trick-or-treating in our neighborhood, Adam’s Farm.
That Halloween, the street of Old Fox
Trail filled with children and their parents as they trick-or-treated up and
down the road. With you and Julianna being so young, your Ladybug sister sat in
a stroller, and you rode in your green and grey Little Tykes Wagon.
What is most memorable about that night
for your dad and me was how, at each house we visited, you eagerly jumped out
of the wagon, navigated the steps to the front door, and before even asking
your neighbors for candy, boldly declared to them, “I am Bob the Builder. I
will fix that for you!”
And then you proceeded to hammer their
front porch.
Cute story, I know … but why does this
particular one stand out for me?
I think it’s because even at the young
age of 3, we were beginning to see the type of young man you would become:
straight to the point; caring; a “fixer”; and someone who is always was willing
to help out a friend or stranger.
Today, I see those same traits in your
willingness to help your sister with her math homework; in your genuine love
and concern and for all animals and those people closest to you; and in your
ability to help me conquer any technological or engineering task.
You’re my go-to guy -- the one who I
know can get things done. I can always count on you to “fix it for me.”
Jack, although you are only 13 years
old, I have already collected a lifetime of memories: birthdays and holidays;
sports games and chess tournaments; talking football on the ride to school;
racing at the annual Woolly Worm Festival in the mountains; riding
rollercoasters with you until you are satisfied and I am sick … I cherish every
moment -- even the ones where I’m nagging you to get out of bed or put away
your laundry.
As I used to tell you when you were 3,
I love you more than a million hippopotamuses.
And I can’t wait to remember the rest
of what’s to come.
