By D. R. DiFrancesco

Son,

I still remember the day you were born,

Our first,

Blonde hair,

Blue eyes,

Colic, your tears and cries brought tears to my eyes.

Then you grew,

Grew out of the innocent helpless stage of infancy,

Standing on your own two feet,

Speaking in incoherent tones,

Trying to form words,

You knew what you were saying,

Frustrated that others didn’t.

With age came clarity,

Your words became sentences,

You thought for yourself,

Such the little man you were.

School was so difficult for you,

Younger than the rest of the class,

The agony of seeing you struggle,

Given one more year to catch up with your friends.

Sensitive,

So much abuse,

So much pain,

Kids can be so cruel,

Yet you overcame adversity and became more resilient for it.

The teen years, your talents flourished,

Maturity and confidence raised their heads,

Still a sense of humor persisted,

Highlighting that which makes you who you are,

Sensitive, caring, intelligent and funny.

Now you are a man,

A better man than your father,

Strong, confident, brave…fearless in the face of distress,

Sacrificing unselfishly for the benefit of others.

We swell with pride at the thought of what you have become,

Independent,

Letting us know that we taught you well,

Doing more in your short life than we ever dreamed was possible,

Son.