When He Reached Down His Hand For Me
It is the wont of children to throw a wrench in the best laid plans. I had a whole series of blog posts planned out this month, highlights of Christmas ornaments that meant something to me, and you went and sent me this in the mail yesterday:
A freaking Christmas ornament. Of your fingers.
Let me just go on the record and say it in front of the billions of people on the internet: you are the best guideson EVER. I am writing through tears, heedless of the fact that my plans were derailed.
One of the best things about kids is this: they teach us not to be so rigid, so uptight, so structured. Because, really, we don’t control a thing. From the moment you appeared, it was up to those of us who love you to figure out how to let you go. Every day is a little rip of the ties that hold you to us.
Here’s what I want you to know.
You go. Run. Experience life, wherever it takes you. Embrace that ribbon of the unknown, no matter where it goes. When life shows you its worst, I’ll be there. When you want to see its best, I hope I can give you a glimpse. Whatever happens, do not ever be afraid of living life.
I love you, Cooper, and I can’t wait to see you in January. Thank you for another memory that will give me happy tears.
To read more letters to our guideson Cooper:
This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.
And, in honor of your guide father’s Johnny Cash “God” fetish, I am deviating from the Christmas music theme today.