My dearest Evan turned 11 years old today. We celebrated with dinner at a restaurant surrounded by a huge aquarium. We ate fish while we oohed and aahed at the fish swimming for our entertainment.
When Evan was not yet two he was diagnosed with a severe case of apraxia. We were told he might never talk and that he would require extensive speech therapy to learn to communicate verbally. The young therapist that diagnosed Evan was obviously wrong. I mention this because my hopes and dreams for my boy are so different today than what they were just a few short years ago. Nine years ago my biggest hope was that he would learn to say simple words and communicate in phrases. Today my hopes and dreams for him know no limits.
My hope, dear Evan, is that you will never lose your competitive spirit and that your dream to compete as a professional athlete will come to fruition. May your hard work and dedication on the field bring you the personal satisfaction that so few people have the joy of experiencing day in and day out.
My dream is that you continue to excel academically and your intense desire to learn will never fade. May your desire to explore the unknown and ask the questions that others never dream persist.
My hope is that your leadership skills will cultivate a yearning to lead an entire generation of young people to think beyond selves and reach out to others. Playground kickball teams and petitions for football at recess can be the beginnings of a much larger movement.
My dream is that your abstract understandings of justice and your strong personal conviction that all should be treated fairly will lead you to fight for the injustices experienced every day by others. May you continue to take a stand for those that cannot take a stand for themselves.
May you continue to smile big and laugh for the joy of laughing. May your life be filled with happiness.
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