Dear Sam ~
Just a little note to let you know we’re thinking of you extra today. You are often in our thoughts and conversations, of course, and tonight we will go to one of your favorite restaurants and raise a glass in your honor, as we do every year on your birthday.
You would be proud of your sons. They are smart, funny and hard-working. They are kind and compassionate. They are grateful and faithful. And really tall. Both are taller than I am, and the so-called little one will likely catch you by about Wednesday of next week at the rate he is eating.
Don’t worry – they’re also normal teenage boys. They leave their crap all over the house, their table manners could benefit from an immersion cotillion weekend, and they think I don’t know when they’re only pretending to do homework. Whenever I hear comments featuring the words “talks too much” during parent-teacher conferences, I blame you entirely.
The kids and I were recently having a “discussion” about doing their own laundry, and they enjoyed hearing that early in our marriage, you turned my favorite cream-colored blouse a pretty light blue. I’m still not quite sure how you managed that, but then I never let you do laundry again. For years, I thought you were the stupid one. But after we had been married 10 years, I realized that you hadn’t done a stitch of laundry in, well, 10 years. More often than not, you were the Ricky to my Lucy. I should have known that pale blue blouse was a clever trick.
In the last few months, both of them have mentioned that they wished you had spoken Spanish with them. I smiled, and told them that you and I had a difference of opinion on this particular issue. And so I say to you now – as any well-adjusted and mature adult would do – “Neener, neener, neener. I was right!” I will also tell you that they can both roll their R’s, even though you never could, and I gleefully take all the credit. But since the gringa is helping them with their Spanish homework, perhaps you are having the last laugh. Maybe you could just whisper a few vocab words in their ears, because the so-called little one has a quiz today.
If this doesn’t seem too weird to say out loud, you would be so happy that Tim has come into our lives. He is good to me, and he loves those boys as his own. You would be pleased at how all of our collective sons have opened their hearts to each other. They are a puppy pack, those four. They wrestle and flop and growl and wag. We are blessed beyond measure.
I guess I really just want to let you know that we are doing well. We have joy and laughter and faith. We are grateful for this day you were born, grateful for the time we had you in our lives. We miss you, but we still feel your love. And we love you.
Happy 50th, Sam.