Look at you

You're one year older

Congratulations, son

You'll never know

How proud I am

Of all the things you've done

You stand on your place from high. You're not exactly sure where you are (some type of afterlife?) but you don't really care to take a closer look around you. What you're concerned about is your son. You can see him from here, wherever you are, and you cannot take your eyes away. Your son... Your son is an amazing young lad. You watch as he risks his life to save his friends, discovers new parts of himself and grows stronger because of it. He takes down foes with serious mangrit, and still stays true to his roots through it all. You cannot fully express how proud you are of him. And scared. So very, very scared.

He could get hurt. He could get worse than hurt. He could get hurt so bad that not even cakes and Ghostbusters band-aids can fix it. He could die, too. That's what you're most afraid of. Your son dying. It's far too soon for him to be joining you.

You don't completely understand what is going on through many of the scenes you watch play out, but you do understand that something important is going on. Something so big it affects several universes. Something... destructive. You don't like the fact that the responsibility of saving literally trillions of people is placed on such young shoulders, but you can't help it too be proud of each and every one of them.

They show such bravery and cunning, skill and intelligence, mercy and wisdom, and all other sorts of traits that you might not have thought possible in so many children. You watch them rise and you watch them fall. You despair with understanding at each of their mistakes, urging them to pick themselves up and keep moving, but you also jump for joy at every triumph, celebrating in their every step forward.

You watch your son grow. Keening at every birthday that you miss, for every problem you cannot help him solve, for every day you cannot tell him, "I'm proud of you, son." But he also has his friends. They rough it out with him. They support him when he needs it and also does the same. He is making his way through life on his own two feet, all the while facing the impending doom. You are so very, very proud.

There are two things that truly bother you the most about your death. The fact that you cannot stand by his side to help him fight (to protect, to shield, to save) and the fact that he cannot see how much you love him.

You feel as if you never told him often enough.

You're greatest wish is to tell him one last time, "I love you, son."

Look at you

You're one year older

See how far you've come?

But of all things

Just don't forget

Where your roots are from