In a few short days, I go back to work. In a few short days, I do the hardest thing I've done in months (you know, since that whole labor and delivery part of things) - I will walk out that door and leave you behind ... in extremely capable hands but not my hands. And typing those words hurts my heart, but I know this is the right thing right now. And thus, in consideration of the fact that I will not be by your side 24/7 (which I know is exactly what you wanted - well, you might actually want that right now but probably not so much from say age 6 on), I write this blog to you, these sentences - of love, of observation, of learning, of wisdom (I hope), of thoughts, of hopes, of exasperation, of questions, of sharing, of encouragement, of perspective, of words ... words from me to you.
All my love,
*Side-bar: As this blog is all about things I want you, my son, to know and observe and experience, and high on that list is an appreciation for history, I feel a bit guilty flippantly throwing around the phrase "D-Day" to signify the day I go back to work, as my going back to work clearly pales in comparison to the sacrifices that were made on June 6, 1944 in Normandy. Alas, this is the common use of the phrase and is an appropriate moniker for this day in my life, albeit trivial in the grand scheme of things.