bloom and grow forever

Dear Tucker,

I feel compelled, as the days rush toward yours and hers, toward ours, to notice all the beautiful things.

You do that sort of work year round, seeing things as astonishing down to their very atoms.

I like the way you strive for big goals in life but what I really admire is how you enjoy yourself along the way. As you get older, I do too, and I appreciate that your wonder hasn't been wounded by age. Sometimes you give absent-minded vibes, but I think maybe it's just hope stealing your focus, aiming it at all the possibilities.

This phase of parenting - where you get taller and faster and stronger and way, way smarter than me - is a little confusing and a lot of fun. You introduce me to fascinating new things: books about rhinogrades and Latin guitar music and thrillers like Trap. Everything I learn about you makes me love you more. You do not exalt productivity in the way that some peers seem to do, and you do tend to take procrastination to its limits, learning later is not always a dependable place. I love the relaxed way you excel, never quite seeking to be the best, always aiming only to be yourself. Sometimes you find yourself in a book, the gift of getting a little bit lost - in stories and in the trees and even at your sock drawer. I love watching you find a path to yourself through music and travel, through science and debate. Although you were invited to make a birthday wish list, your epicenter continues to be people, not things. Plus cookies, you did ask for Lion Cub.

You may've been born under a lucky star. For the first few months, life felt like little more than a thin stream of milk connecting my body to yours, a fragile thread of silk holding your sister near us too. Your story began with more character development than most Marvel heroes, and still today you're making courageous choices and championing the rights of friends. The memories you're making right now, in the woods and on the stage, may they feel like jewels sewn into the hem of a coat that might fit forever. There is a long red carpet unfurled in front of you, as you race toward the rest of your life. While you go erringly forward, may you always feel secure and connected to a lineage of people who love you so much.

Your kind heart and your deep intellect and your gorgeous smile grow immeasurably each year.

It is an honor and a privilege to love you into a future where you leave this house for good.

You are fourteen going on fifteen and you are one of our favorite things, as Rolf and always.

Mom