Dear Ezra: A Letter to My Son on His 5th Birthday

Dear Ezra: A letter to my son on his 5th birthday. Love, Mom.

You’re downstairs with your little brother, battling his imaginary monsters, frightening them away from the toy room. I’m busy making dinner and he’s desperate for a playmate, so you accompany him to the basement, patiently searching for monsters. When none appear, you call up to tell me

they’re all in his head. When I tell you I know they’re imaginary, but he’s still afraid, you invite him to be your sidekick and you fight away his fears.

We read a book the other day and you felt sorry for the “bad” guy at the end because he was sad and lonely. I explained why he deserved his lot, but you weren’t buying it. I love your ability to empathize and that you’re already sensing at a young age that things aren’t always black or white, right or wrong, good or bad.

Your world is a blur of facts and semi facts and pseudo facts – all told to me in absolute seriousness. You suddenly see numbers and letters everywhere. Your curiosity about how they all combine into words, names, and equations is growing daily. As you take in the world around you, explaining it to me helps it all make sense.

You want to know everything about death and heaven. What does it feel like to be dead? What do people do in graveyards who aren’t dead? Can our spirits feel? Will we be with Jesus in Heaven? You drew a family tree with Ella and the two of you decided to draw Grandpa Lyn with an invisibility cloak and only his mustache showing. I had no words.

Frustration rises up inside you so quickly. A “no” when you expect a “yes” offends you. When people don’t say what you want or interrupt your fun, they’re mean. I call you a mini incredible hulk, with that temper that goes from 0 to 60 in a second flat. Give you time to cool, however, and you want to talk it through, apologize, and get a hug.

You’re a boy who does best with a purpose, responsibility, a job to do. I love how you arrive downstairs in the morning dressed and ready for the day.  You like to know how you can help or what job we have just for you.

Today you turn five and I’m enchanted by your big boy grin. I love it when you slip your hand in mine to cross the road and how you take on the challenge to give me “the biggest hug ever.” 

On your big day today as you unwrap gifts of monster trucks and airplane books, I hope you know what an incredible gift you are in my life. I love you, sweet boy.