I write a blog to my son because I want him to always know how his daddy feels about him. Later this month he’ll turn 7. I started writing to him just a few weeks short of 3 years ago. It’s kinda like a daddy version of scrap booking.
I’d like to share today’s blog entry with you:
Monday night I received a phone call from you while I was at a “Newcomer’s Meeting” for a church here in Redding called “The Stirring”. I assumed it would be your mom because it was almost 10pm on a school night. When I answered there was a brief silence. I repeated “Hello” and your little voice said “Boo!”. That’s a typical Caden conversation starter, and it always lights up my face and changes my voice.
I talked to you until you were bored. I know when that time comes because out of nowhere you say, “Good byyyye!” It doesn’t matter if I’m in the middle of a sentence or not. That means, “Sorry dad, I’m bored and have no further interest in continuing this conversation”. After saying goodbye you often simply hang up. You’re the only person that can hang up on me without annoying me. It amuses me when you do it.
This time, however, your mom took the phone. She let me know that she’d been upstairs and had no idea you called me. You have my cell phone number memorized, it was 10pm, and you just figured it was a good time to have a chat with dad. My chest inflated when I heard that.
I know I say it all the time, but I love you very much. In my personal blog just the other day I wrote about how I enjoy playing card games with you simply because you like them so much. I usually hate card games and board games. I always have. But spending that time with you and watching how much you love playing them makes me enjoy them also.
It also endears me to see how much of a mommy’s boy you are. You’ll defend her in any situation. Just last week your mother and I were on the phone and reached a point where we disagreed a little. We weren’t yelling by any means, but as we discussed the issue our tones indicated to you that we didn’t agree. I heard you saying something to mommy in the background. She came back to the phone and said, “Caden wants me to tell you that you are wrong and mommy is right.” On matters where you can tell your mother and I don’t agree, this is the case every time: mommy is right. I love that about you.
When I’m at your house, one of your favorite games is saving mommy from dad. I’ll start to go toward her and put up my hands like I’m going to tickle her. You come running to smash your body into mine in order to knock me away. The only problem with this game is that once it starts you want it to continue until long after I’m ready to stop. I usually distract you by turning my tickle fingers on to you and chasing you upstairs, which eventually leads to a game of hide and seek or a wrestling match.
My dear son, you once asked me if I wanted Jesus in my heart. We were chatting and out of the blue you asked that question. I have the conversation memorized and can repeat it nearly word for word. It went like this:
“Dad, do you want Jesus in your heart?”
I didn’t know what to say, because at the time I didn’t care about it.
“I don’t know, Caden. How about you? Do you want Jesus in your heart?”
“I already do dad. So…. do ya?”
“Then ask him!”
I think you were 5 years old at the time. That conversation stuck with me because you had such an earnest look on your face. Even so, I didn’t do anything about the lack of Jesus in my heart at the time.
Son, your daddy has Jesus in his heart now. He moved in a few months ago and cleaned things up a bit, and now I’m sure you and I will have regular conversations with him, together… one more thing we can share.
I’m looking forward to it.