happy six, buddy.

Dear Caleb, 

When you were born, I felt it all. The rush of love. The great fear. The incomparable awe. The overflowing joy. You were just a tiny, fragile thing with soulful eyes and a prickly cry. Sometimes I close my eyes and journey back to those days in the hospital when everything in your life and our lives were so brand new. In one moment, I became a mom and everything else I thought was important suddenly started drifting off into the background.

Six years later, I am in the same spot I seem to be every year. Struggling for words to sum it all up. This past year, your whole life and how you’ve changed mine. I just can never do it. And I want to be so careful about my words with you these days, Caleb, because I know you are a sensitive boy with a great memory. I want my feelings for you to stick the right places in your heart and never get lost amidst all of the other details you so carefully store in there.

You’ve grown so much this past year. You stepped into five years old with pride and confidence right away. You played on three different sports teams and scored touchdowns, goals and baskets as we screamed from the sidelines. And you made us proud, not only with your natural ability, but because you played when you didn’t always feel like it, you cheered on others’ successes and you practiced so hard to become better. You never gave up.

You walked into a new classroom at a new school with all new people, and you bravely sat down at your desk and let us walk out of the door. You wore your uniform and did your homework and said your lines at the Christmas program. You seamlessly slipped into the school-age years and shined doing so.

You became a lover of Legos and can already build so much on your own, but still treasure working on them with your dad. Your most requested meal has to be orange chicken. You still thrive on schedules and routines. You haven’t outgrown biting your lip or scratching my nail. You lost three teeth and the tooth fairy even made it to Spokane. You helped catch crabs and sharks on Whidbey Island. You wore shorts every day you could get away with it. You read books and memorized Bible verses. You were a great teacher to your little sis.

You became my buddy in a truer sense of the word. My shopping companion, my snuggler on the couch. You asked thought-provoking questions and said hilarious things. I love how our conversations have evolved and the laughter between us has grown.

And all of this is why I’m okay with you growing older. It’s so hard, SO hard, to watch another year pass. I never knew it would be this hard for me. But it’s also so good. So sweet. So rich and rewarding. Because you’re you, and you just get better. You just make us better, too, Caleb.

I don’t know what I ever did without you.

So just remember, you were great at being five, Caleb B. So brave and awesome. You made us so proud every single day and I can say that without even the slightest exaggeration. I know six has big things in store for you and all I know is that I’m the absolute luckiest to watch each year turn to the next with you.

Love you to the moon and a million trillion.

Mama