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Monday, November 23, 2020

4

You turned four last week.  

I wish I could write something grand, something worthy of your first four years, the joy you have brought to our lives and all the things we have learned from you.  But I cannot.

You are too sweet for this world.  A wonderful big brother to Harper.  You have been a wonderful child, our joy and pride.  And I don't know if you will remember this time of COVID, but you are a champ at wearing your mask.  It is normal for you.  You wear it far more willingly (and properly) than many adults.

You love garbage trucks and trains. You dressed up as a garbage truck for Halloween, thanks to some amazing handiwork by your mommy.  The getup included a fluorescent yellow vest which you wore every day for over two weeks, even putting it on over your pajamas to sleep in at night.

Every Tuesday if you're home, you take your toy garbage truck out onto the sidewalk with all your trash cans (and trash).  When the garbage man arrives, you proceed to mimic his actions, grabbing each can with your grabber arm, emptying it into your hopper, then setting it back down before moving along to the next.  All the while you are making garbage truck noises.  

The garbage man waves and honks.  He knows you, oh yes he does, to the extent that he was able to set up your four-year photo shoot at the local sanitation department, or as you call it, "where the garbage trucks sleep."  

"Garbage man Shane" even bought you a toy garbage truck, put official city sanitation stickers on it, filled it with candy, and gave it to you for your birthday.  And even though you have a fancier garbage truck at home, you solely played with the one the garbage man gave you for two weeks.

The years have flown, little buddy.  Oftentimes I find myself staring at you in amazement. 

You're perfect.  All your bones still unbroken.  Your innocence intact.  And so very many dreams have you yet to dream. 

I cannot help but wonder what the future holds...

When I am sixty-six, and you are twenty-three
Let me still remember the joy you were to me
Those golden curls, the morning snuggles
All your triumphs and your struggles

Story times and nursery rhymes
And the songs that we would sing
Jesus loves you, this you knew
From a very early age

When for me November comes
And your summer's just begun
I'll always be your biggest fan
Please come to visit when you can

When I am sixty-six, and you are twenty-three
I will still remember that perfect boy upon my knee
However far you wander, whatever you believe
But for now, just be four, for as long as you can be...

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