I remember when you were born. I remember the first time I heard you cry and held you to my breast. You were so beautiful; your features were a perfect mix between your father and me. You stared up at us with your big, beautiful green eyes and I promised I would go anywhere, do anything, and fight for you till the day I died. In the beginning, it was just us three, then we invited our parents, then siblings, and eventually we introduced you to everyone else in our lives. Everyone loved you and commented on what an amazing baby you were. You slept through the night and were rarely fussy or irritable. You were happy to just sit in your rocker and watch us, or the dogs while we tended to things around the house. Then suddenly you were turning a year old, and had already said your first words, “Dadda”. Your father still does not let me live down the fact that your first word was about him. In another blink of an eye, you were crawling, then walking, then running. Anytime we would take you to a park, or a field you were running. The wind would blow through your wavy blonde hair, and the sun would leave a rosy glow upon your face. You continued to be our happy little boy.

The first day of school for you was so hard for me. I worried about you. Would you get along with the other children, what if you got into trouble, and what if you didn’t miss your dad or me and we were no longer the most important thing in your life? I managed to not cry when we dropped you off, at least not in front of you. But once we were back in the car driving away, I cried the whole way home, afraid that I had begun to lose my little baby boy. Fortunately, when we returned to pick you up you came running towards us, hugging us tightly as you spoke of all the things you had done today and the kids you had played with. I felt a bit selfish when I remembered all the thoughts, I had had that morning and hugged you extra tight, and right as your story of the day wound down you told us how great of a day it was and that through all those things your favorite part was seeing us and getting to go home and spend the rest of the day with us. This time, your dad cried quietly in the car, and we held hands on the drive home. Silently supporting each other in our love for you and the joy of knowing that you were going to be ok.

As you got older you began developing and growing your personality, never saying no to trying something new, and always reaching out for more knowledge. Your book collection started small and grew to the point where you owned more books in your library than I did in mine. No book was off-limits, and your curiosity fueled a lot of our conversations, and sometimes our arguments. I would like to say I kept my temper, but I’m human and no matter what transpired between us, we always hugged, cooled off, and returned together to discuss our feelings and actions. You were far too smart for your age, and before I knew it you were in high school and completing the last few years of your schooling. You were on the football team playing defense, you got a small part...