Six

Dear Sam,
Happy birthday, Bananas!  What a whirlwind year five was, and here we are celebrating your 6th birthday.  Looking back over the last year I think of all the things you did and the things that happened to you and I’m glad to have a new year, a fresh start. 
You started your fifth year with a selfless deed – you donated all your birthday gifts to a local ministry to help kids in need.  You pulled each gift out of the box and placed them in Sister Rose’s lap, pausing to show her each one so she could get a good look.  You hugged her tight before we drove away and I watched you look out the window at the happy kids waving to us from the dilapidated front porch.  What were you thinking in that moment?  Did you realize what a mature and wonderful thing you did?  You never even complained about not getting birthday gifts that year.  You astounded me that day.
A few months later you were struck with that horrible infection.  You were faced with daily visits to the doctor, surgery and antibiotics that couldn’t fight the bacteria.  We both learned how to take deep breaths and focus on happy things during the frequent and painful bandage changes.  You cried and screamed and when I finally lost it and cried with you, you hugged me and rubbed my back.  You are so strong, Sam.  You overwhelmed me that day.
In the spring you rode your bike around the block all by yourself.  It was the first time I’d let you out of my sight while playing outside.  Your smile was breathtaking when you came around the corner that first lap. The freedom was exhilarating!  You must’ve gone around 11 times.  You pumped your legs to straighten your wobbly bike before taking off again, smiling at me each time you passed.  You made me smile that day.
This summer saw more medical drama as the lingering effects of the strong antibiotics took a toll on your tummy.  What started as a stomach bug turned into an endoscopy and an overnight stay in the hospital.  You couldn’t eat for days and you were in such pain.  The MRSA was gone, but it wasn’t finished with you yet.  You steeled yourself and made it through another horrible ordeal.  “If I drink the chalky stuff that the doctor wants me to drink, can I get a red Light Saber, Mom?”  You did it.  You are so tough, Sam.  You touched me that day.
Kindergarten started and you transitioned seamlessly.  You have made new friends and you are such a good boy.  Do you remember we were late on your first day because you had to poop right before we left?  What a funny memory we made!  You came home one afternoon and told me you were chosen as Student of the Month for displaying the character trait of “respect.”  Wow! What an accomplishment.  You certainly have my respect.  You impressed me that day.
Five was a good year.  You learned a lot, you endured a lot.  I can’t believe how different you look; you are growing up before my very eyes.
      


For year six, you told me you want to learn how to ride a skateboard and how to read better.  You can do it, Sam.  I believe in you.  I love you as everything I see.  Happy birthday my sweet son.
Love,
Mom