Sunday, July 13, 2008

Happy Birthday, Dear Aaron...

Hiking in the Columbia River Gorge less than two weeks ago.

If I could only have one son (and I do), I would want him to be exactly like you (and you are). :-)

When I think of you, I think of how you:

Didn't always play with your toys in the typical way, but closely examined them to see how they worked.

Took apart everything around the house and put it back together again.

Had a huge amount of happy energy, like Tigger with a brain.

Loved wearing your fur Daniel Boone coonskin cap everywhere, all the time.

Rode your bike at breakneck speed to fly off homemade jumps.

Sailed your experimental homemade boats on the lake in front of our home.

Had great fun experimenting with paper airplane designs, changing them often to see how they'd fly. And I recall being struck in the head by a paper plane more than once when walking through your flight space (which could be anywhere!).

Entered a room by bounding. I'll never forget the sight of feet first, and then the whooshing of your entire self skimming over my head, Ninja style, as I sat reading in my chair. "Aaron!" (I'll grant that you never so much as nicked me when flying by.)

Examined and experimented with everything.

Befriended the little wild critters around our home. Knew all of the animal tracks and homes and the animals' characteristics and behaviour.

Brought home great piles of books from the library and delightedly read straight through them all, week after week after week. I don't know anyone who has loved reading more than you.

Brought great vision and enthusiasm to your every endeavour.

Became a writer through blood, sweat, and tears.

Had literally about 16 nicknames. I won't list them, but just remember the Chinese proverb: Many nicknames means much love.

Built up a nice layer of sawdust in your room by using your Dremel in there.

Rode your bike in the snow in bare feet.

Spent long happy hours making medieval swords and armour out of wood and cardboard.

Came near me to pace round and round in wide circles when you were hungry, eventually stopping to look up at me and muse, "I wonder if anybody's hungry."

Were once found (by me) lying (eyes closed, cross-armed, as if dead) on the kitchen floor with a note safety-pinned to your chest: "Susan. You starved this boy. Yes, I said YOU!"

Read the Lord of the Rings trilogy more than 20 times.

Would go outside by yourself very late at night to sit in a chair and look silently at the night sky.

Love to sit and drink tea British style, with sugar and cream, especially when the tea is accompanied by McVities Milk Chocolate Digestives.

Loved to philosophize, conversing for hours about a wide range of things from Winnie-the-Pooh to Dostoevsky to the theory of relativity to cozy homes to the meaning of life (and the universe and everything, which, of course, is 42)-- all so interesting and insightful. I was proud of the way you thought. I still am.

You have been a delight and a joy, Aaron, ever since you came into the world in Lakenheath, England at a whopping 10 lbs. 6 oz. You are smart and funny, thoughtful and sensitive, deep and real. I love your unique creativity and personality.

I thank God for giving me such a wonderful son. I love you, Aaron.