To Manny on His Fifth Birthday

What a year you've had! Last summer at Beachcomber, you stepped into water a bit too deep for you, Dad and the lifeguard rescued you swiftly and quietly. I wrapped you in a towel in my arms and saw for the first time that I could lose you. Later that same summer, the lifeguards made a whirlpool for you and Benici. Benici got out, disinterested. I saw you stand in the middle, steady and tall smiling hugely, feeling the swirling force and allowing it to pass your legs. A new baby sister in the Fall! The evening she was born, you and I were dance partners in Teacher Dawn's music class. We jumped on the zero. You so loved to touch my belly when Clara was in there. Were you remembering? Were you anchoring yourself to where you came from? In the winter, your structures really came alive: 3D boxes, assorted knot-series, tinker-toy spacecraft, light sabers of all variations. And of course, you are the best preschool sous-chef there ever was! Chopping carrots, adding salt to pasta water, learning to crack eggs with one tricky hand! And then in the spring, you with the language explosion! Reading those simple but powerful words, "OFF,""STOP," "INCREDIBLES." Can I tell you how amazing it was to find the grocery list you WROTE for me including "BCN" for bacon "BNZ" for bananas and "TDLN" for tenderloin.

I can't reflect on the year and not want so much to ask you to forgive me for being short with you when you tell your ideas, for hurrying you into your shoes, and for disciplining out of annoyance. This is my loss, believe me. Yet I know you notice. Your eye for insincerity is very acute and yes, many times this year you have been right that I have not been checked in. But please trust me that I want to love you better.

As we move into a new house and you move into bigger shoes and get faster on your Razor, I see that our life is thickening and this elaborate tapestry is really coming together. I see your role, you my super hero firstborn. Your insistent and unwavering leadership style. You come up with an idea and you make it happen. You are so tactile, so musical. When you witness pain or beauty, 9 times out of ten, you engage it rather than shy away. How did you get to be so bold? You teach me that when I look at something that breaks my heart with its beauty or its fragility NOT to look away but to allow it to touch me and even give myself to it.

So, when I look at you in these photos, I feel my heart ache that I could ever lose you but if I don't surrender my whole heart to loving you then what's the point?