Today was good. I watched you sleeping as I lay next to you—like every other weekend we’re together. All too soon you will be too big for me to sleep in between you, swing you from my limbs, and kiss you on the lips. I’m aware of the frailty lining these moments.
Harrison, my firstborn, my strength. Your eyes are a mirror into my childhood—the joys, the disappointments, the victories, the defeats. There is this joy in your chocolate eyes that lights up a room.
Jonah, my baby, my heart. Everything I loved about your mother I experience in you. We speak an unspoken language in the hugs, wrestling matches and piggyback rides we share. I vividly remember the day I found out I was having a second son...they told me I’d have a little girl. But you arrived, and have not ceased to amaze since.
Sons, nothing you do will ever change the way I feel about you. Follow these rules when we are apart. And when we are together, may we live in our moments.
• Take lots of pictures.
• The key to good photography is not timing. It’s editing.
• Live in New York City at some point.
• Make sure your clothes fit properly
• Spend time with your mother. She’s cooler than you think.
• Learn to tie a bow tie.
• Never side against your brother in a fight.
• Don’t be afraid to ask out the best-looking girl in the room.
• When shaking hands, grip firmly and look him in the eye.
• Always use your last name when introducing yourself.
• Surprise me at the office. Trust me, whatever I’m doing is not as important as you.
*Modified version previously featured on All Plaid Out.