I don’t know if this blog will exist when you are a teenager. Let us assume for the minute that it will. This is a story for you about now when you are still a small boy.
I read this book to you nearly every night. It is part of our ritual. Recently the ritual changed. We still go upstairs and you pick out books, but now you lie on your stomach and turn the pages too fast for us to read to you. As you lie there, I can see the little person you are becoming. It is beautiful. Then we read the bedtime book and settle you into your crib.
Only a short week ago, you would go to the bookshelf and take your book to me. Plop! into my lap and we would read the stories together. I admit that I miss your weight in my lap. However, while things are changing, some things are still the same. After you are settled into your crib, I sit in the rocking chair and I read Dete Oide Yo. It is our time together. Dad has usually gone downstairs to do chores or work.
I could read other books, and sometimes I do, but this one has a heavy familiarity. I know the words by heart, and the text if I falter is easy to read even in dim light.
Tomorrow I will be away. A class project. There are bound to be more of them, but this is the first time away and so it feels heavier and more important. I know already that I will miss my time with you. But I wanted you to have this here, so you could hear my voice as you go to sleep. I love you and will see you soon.