Bubba,

At midnight tonight, after I had gotten ready for bed and daddy was asleep and the house was dark and quiet, I tiptoed into your room and put my hand on your back like I always do- to check for your breathing. After holding my own breath until I found yours, I swept you up into my arms and carried you to the rocking chair. I placed your head against my heart and rocked you as I cried.
I had much reason to cry, you know. I cried because today you are a day older than yesterday. I cried because you’re 2 days older than the day before that, and I cried because you’re 3 days older than the day before that. I rocked and rocked as I whispered “I love you little boy”. I hoped that you heard me. But even so, the words do no justice.
You were upset tonight as I was brushing your teeth. You usually love to brush your teeth, but tonight you would have rather gone back to the park. I was selfish, though, and told you that I wanted you to sleep instead. I wanted a breather from the rather long day I had, and nothing is more peaceful to me than sitting in your dark room with your fish tank humming and watching your eyes drift off. Sometimes you whisper my name while you sleep. Sometimes you whisper dada’s. I like to think that you’re dreaming of the best parts of the day with us. Like the times we dance in the kitchen together- -you just won’t let us dance apart- you put your little arm around my neck and you call dada over and put your other arm around his, and we dance and sing and laugh til we’re sweaty and tired. Those are moments of pure bliss to me. And bliss sometimes brings tears. Good tears.
I never knew I could love so much, so deeply, so whole-heartedly. It’s not something I can explain except to say that in you, I have a home. That is why I come into your room and take you out of your warm bed just to rock you. And that, my son, is why your hair is sopping wet right now.
I just love you.