Letting go is hard to do. A letter to my son | Athens PA Child Photographer

This is part of a series called Letters to My Son, where I write a letter to my son once a month.
To my son:

I’m not going to lie. I’m having a very hard time with you going back to school in a day. When I say hard, I mean my chest gets tight, my face scrunches funny and my eyes feel hot with tears and I feel weak in my knees.


I’m not ready for you not to be home with me every day. I’m not ready to not be able to rub your little back or kiss your cute head whenever I want. I’m not ready to not hear you building your Legos and creating stories with them, or listening as you tell me what you’ve made on Minecraft that day.


Someday I won’t be able to reach the top of your head to kiss it, I know that. Someday I won’t hear you ask me to come see your latest creation on Minecraft or your latest drawing. Someday you won’t even care if I watch you jump off the side of the pool or ride your new bike, or build your latest Lego robot.


You are so bright and creative and witty and fun. You make every day better, more fun, more interesting, and definitely more worthy to live. I never know what new adventure awaits me when your feet hit the floor each morning and that’s a pretty awesome (yet sometimes scary) feeling.


You’re such an amazing big brother. I hope you know that. You care for your sister, keep her out of trouble, help me care for her, and, as Grandma once said, you show her how to love by being loving to her. Each hug, each kiss, each cuddle shows Gracie what love really is and the fact you know this at only 8-years of age makes me realize we must be doing something right as your parents.


So here we are with only a few days left of summer. I can’t put the brakes on time; I can’t make it stand still, no matter how much I want to. Instead, I’m trying to enjoy each time you put your arms around me. I’m trying to focus on each moment we have together, each story you tell me, each kiss you give me and each laugh we share. I’m letting my cheek linger against the top of your buzzed head when I hold you.

You’re going to have an amazing school year. I know that. Third grade is going to be challenging. There will be tears. You and I will both get frustrated. We may even yell at each other a bit. But we’re going to survive it – together.

Love you, kid



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