Dear Cooper,
Today you turned six. Unbelievable, I know.
The past year has brought many new and exciting experiences for you and our family. Whatever age you are as you sit reading this right now, I’m sure there are many events that stand out, and others that you may have forgotten. Hopefully this letter will serve to jog your memory…and mine…as we recollect special moments and “true stories” from our past. Someday, you might even want to pass them along.
To begin, just after your fifth birthday (for Halloween last year) you wanted to be Batman. And I, against your daddy’s better judgment of course, got you a “store bought” costume to wear. We went trick-or-treating with the Smith cousins in Sterling before the big family Halloween party/Mamaw’s birthday party. It’s quite a tradition, one of which I hope you’ll have many fond memories for years to come.
Aunt Carol let you borrow an old Power Ranger costume that she made years earlier for your cousin Clay. You wore it to school for your Halloween party. Funny thing, we saw one just like it in the store this year. I doubt it lasts as long as Aunt Carol’s has.
The weather began to change, and we were all happy to have a sunny day to enjoy on Thanksgiving at Mamaw and Papaws. You kids had fun riding the barrel train, playing in the barn and jumping on the hay bales, which as you can imagine, was a game that scared me to death. Especially when I discovered that one of you had gotten stuck in between two giant bales.
With the cooler weather brought the falling of the leaves and the fun you and your brother had running and jumping and diving in the piles we raked up in the yard. This was the fall that you got your first bike from Uncle Glendon. You had no idea it was one he had salvaged from the city dump. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It was a great bike. Still is today.
I knew when you got that bike that the training wheels wouldn’t stay on long, and sure enough, on my birthday, another beautiful Sunday afternoon in December, we took you to the ball field with just two wheels, and you learned to ride right there on the infield dirt. Pretty sweet.
Christmas 09 was the year of the hat. I think between you and Brisco, you got five ball caps and two coon skins. And Santa brought you the telescope you asked for. (Next time, ask him to send along an elf who’s really good in science.)
This winter was the year the lights went out, and stayed out for about a week. We stayed at Martha’s where it was warm with Grandmother and Uncle Max. This is when he taught the two of you to play poker. We enjoyed watching the snow fall, and couldn’t believe how easily the big branches broke right off the trees in the yard. You boys really wanted the tree in the middle of the backyard to fall because it’s the one that always blocks your homerun shots. Sorry. That hog is still standing.
This year brought little things to relish, like playing in the rain and discovering that the Easter bunny lays really big eggs. And they’re pink. Like discovering the Winter Olympics and the game of hockey, which can be played just as easily indoors with a Nerf baseball and a light saber.
Like trips to the mountains for hiking and picnicking and finding giant bird baths on top of huge rocks. Like Granma Camp and family vacations and seeing your first big league ballpark.
And then, of course, there’s the important stuff. You played your second year of coach pitch. Second base was your usual position. I think the most fun you had all summer was the night you got to catch. Nervous and amazed, I watched through squinted eyes. And as is often the case with you and the game of baseball, when it was over, I simply had to shake my head.
Starting Kindergarten proved to be more traumatizing for me than it was for you. You never have much to say about your day when I ask, other than “good”, so I just take your word for it. I never saw a kid who wasn’t starving when he came home from school. I usually have to beg you to have a snack. (Someday I’ll think back on that last statement and call myself crazy.)
What about life beyond Kindergarten in Sentinel, OK? Well, after enjoying another season as Reigning World Series Champs, our beloved Yankees fell short in the playoffs this year. But you are still pretty pumped to watch the Giants and the Rangers in the 2010 World Series games.
Gas prices are hovering at $2.79 a gallon, which means you should start saving now if you expect to drive yourself to college in the year 2023. I also paid $3.67 for a gallon of milk this week, so you might hit Uncle Billy up for a good price on one of his milk cows. (That is if your craving for a nightly trough of cereal holds up.)I’d inform you of a bit of the politics of the time, but frankly, I’m too annoyed to bother. Besides, you’ll have a good history teacher in a few years. I’m sure he’ll fill you in.
Technology is a powerful force in our world today. You’ve told me the part of your school day that you like the least is computer class. It’s possible that in ten years, you won’t know how to live without one. Cell phones are currently about the size of a half of a grilled cheese sandwich. By the time you get one, they’ll probably be the size of black-eyed pea and implanted into the side of your head. And you know we’re not gonna pay for that.
One thing that hasn’t changed much in the last six years…and won’t change much more for the next 60 or so…is the way your momma loves you. More than warm sun on the face, a cool breeze through the air and a baseball leaving the ballpark. More than our beloved Yankees. And yes, even more than your favorite chocolate brownies.
Happy birthday, Coop.
I love ya,
Momma
And that’s All in a day’s work!
No comments:
Post a Comment