Monday, June 20, 2016

Nine, Nine Times

I cannot read the past years' letters to Karter, only write todays.  If I look too far back, I begin to devolve into a slobbery mess of tissues and tears.  Welcome, thank you for reading it means the world.

Dear Karter,

Happy 9th Birthday to You!  Nine times of birthday wishes.  Nine times of taking time out of my day to share You with the world.  You are worth every single word and so many more.  I love you.  We love you.

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Last night your Middle Brother and I noticed a large amount of lightning bugs a float in our back yard.  We haven't seen many here, until last night.  It was a whimsical time of prancing through the yard on the hunt for lightning bugs.  With mason jar in hand Middle Brother tried so very hard to make a catch.  The sun had set long before so we were going on the last few minutes of dusk.  We had fun.  One of those rare occurrences in life where he and I got to do something "outdoorsy" and succeed at it.  Our powers combined we caught one lightning bug!  It was so tiny.  Middle Brother sat and watched it in awe.  I watched him in awe.  Then outside I got real sad, really quick.  Why, and why now?

The answer was about as blunt as a dump truck slamming into another dump truck, head on, full speed.  Boom.

Karter, I just wished you were right there with Middle Brother attempting to catch those lightning bugs.  Running though the yard, giggling, not caring about the dark of night.  Maybe you were there.  I can only hope, even if we can't see you maybe that why we finally caught one.

I've looked up a couple things on lightning bugs.  They use their ability to flash to communicate with others and potential mates.  They have bioluminescence in their bodies, which they can light up at will.  How?  Well that part is thought to be due to oxygen.  Like breathing in or allowing it in some way.  This last line got me when I read it...

"No oxygen, no light..."

Queue those tears because mine are a flowing.  Your voice floods through my ears.  Your beautiful little nose, tiny little fingers and toes.  A kiss of both hello and goodbye.  I really wasn't hoping it'd be a kiss for both.  If I could've jumped off that operating table just to hold you longer, I would've.  Your voice was so crystal clear, for a tiny bit.  Yet like the lightning bug - no oxygen, no light.

If my magic wand were working you'd be here to help us find lightning bugs tonight.  I'd be making you a cake with the number 9 candle, serving your favorite ice cream, and dinner menu of your choice.  A few gifts.  A birthday celebration that we won't be having, tonight.  or ever.

My Dear Littlest Son, Karter, I love you.  We love you.  Watch us grow this year.  Keep Daddy safe as always.  Help your Big Brothers make good choices and put effort into the work they do.  If you can, help my body to stop revolting against itself.  I know you will be waiting, watching, maybe we are your lightning bugs... Maybe that's how you see us.  If so, that's ok by me because I know what you are seeing is beauty, love, serenity.

I truly dislike this conclusion part of the letter.  I love you Karter, We love you.  Everyday.  Forever.  Thanks for coming into our lives with a voice not forgotten.  Happy 9th Birthday.  One year to double digits.  I cannot believe how quickly time passes as we age.  No matter what, no matter how many birthdays I write to you, you are still that intensely voiced little human being who was just, plainly, too bad ass for this world.  So, until we meet again on that World of Bad Asses, I love you.  I love you.  I love you Karter.  We love you Karter.  Happy 9th Birthday!

Lightning Bug Article - If you feel like reading about them.