(All disclaimers in chapter 1...)
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9-5-77 9:38PM
Hello there, sweetheart. I found this notebook a year ago, the morning after your first birthday; your daddy left it in your room, probably by accident, and I peeked. Shhhh--don't tell him. It'll be our little secret. :)
I don't really know just what to write here, but since your daddy is busy giving you your bath right now, I thought I should fill in; he's started a good tradition here.
Traditions are important; they link us to our heritage and our past, remind us of where we have been, where we could have been. They unlock our present for us, tell us who we are and why we do what we do. They connect us to our future, teach us how to decide what will be important to our lives and how to protect what we value. These are important tools to have because, without them, we resign ourselves to repeat the same mistakes we've been making since time began. Hold on to the traditions, sweetheart; let yourself live in the moment and be open to the future, but never forsake the history that brought you here. Be a man of tradition, but also a man of vision, compassion, and hope; without them, we would still be wondering around in the desert.
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be preachy. Your father seems to write whatever he's thinking when he does this, and when I look at you, I think of so many deep and wondrous things; instead of overwhelming you with them, I think I'll try to focus on the moment.
I can hear you in your bath, splashing and giggling and probably drenching your daddy. We thought you'd be tired after the day you've had, with your first real birthday party and all the presents and people and running around, but you're wired now; we're ready to go to bed, and you're ready to play.
Your daddy is right, you are a bundle of energy. You are so much fun! You find joy in discovering every little thing we take for granted; I forgot how much fun it could be to have a baby around. You're strong, too--I'm surprised your father isn't black and blue now, after all the plastic balls you threw at him from that silly ball pool today. Your brother's too smart for his own good--he wouldn't even get in there with you; he just stood at the foot of the steps leading up to it, making sure that you didn't completely disappear. I guess there are some times he just knows best, especially when it comes to you. I think you have your own built-in guardian angel.
I can still hear you in the bathroom with your daddy. I think he just pulled the drain, and now he's got you on the rug and is trying to get you to stand still long enough for him to get a towel around you. Keeping you in one place has almost always been a challenge.
And it didn't work. I don't know how you got around him and got the door open, but you just came streaking (and I mean streaking) through here, giggling and bearing (maybe I should say baring) a striking resemblence to one of those cartoon characters with little cyclones around it. I could get up and try to help your father catch you... but I won't. I'm having too much fun sitting here talking to your future--and he's having too much fun chasing your cute little tush and the rest of your present all over the second floor of the house. :) You've always been such a beautiful baby, and I can tell that one day you're going to be a real heartbreaker (ah, ahem, fully clothed, please.)
Ohhhhhhh my word. I had to stop for a minute--I was laughing too hard to write. I can't be sure without checking, and I'm not ready to get up and see, but I think you just rocketed yourself, still very naked and very wet, onto your brother, who was probably laying on his bed with one of his Hardy Boys books. He wasn't in the greatest mood to start with, since Daddy grounded him last night for trying to play basketball on the ankle he sprained three days ago while playing hockey, so having you dive-bomb him probably added a really interesting twist to his really boring day. Don't let him fool you, sweetheart--he may act annoyed, but he loves you and he has more fun with you than I've ever seen him have with any of his friends.
We all love you, baby. All parents think their kids are the best, but you, my sweet, you are special--more special than pretty much anyone we know. You just might prove that the greatest power comes in small packages. Be human, be humble, be realistic, be you, but be willing to dream big and ready to live your dream. And your daddy's right--don't you ever forget that, no matter what happens, this will always be your home.
Happy birthday, my sweet boy. Now, if we can only keep you clothed...
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