It’s that time of year again. The stores are full of ties and cufflinks and cologne all ready to be wrapped and presented with a cheesy card with a golf joke on it for Father’s Day. For me, if you’ve followed my blog, you know it’s my one time a year to write directly to Will’s donor. He may never see these posts, but 10 years from now, if Will decides he wants to meet his other genetic half, I plan on presenting them to him as a ‘hey, this is what this amazing kid was like for the last 18 years.’ We’ll pause on Sunday for a minute, let a blue balloon go and thank him for letting us have each other….because yes, he’s not involved in the raising, but as Will learned this year, you can’t have babies without the man part.
So Will’s donor, here is your eighth Father’s Day Update!
This year has been remarkable. We’ve had so many adventures together and I think, if it’s at all possible, my awe in this kid has grown ten fold.
The boy is sassy, stubborn and very opinionated. This doesn’t sound like me at all so it must come from your genetic side of the family.
But on the flipside, he is sensitive, incredibly caring for other people and most importantly, he is very kind. I’ve had a number of emails from other parents this year, thanking Will for the compassion he’s shown towards their kids and if he won the Nobel Peace Prize, I’m not sure I could have been prouder of him than I was reading those messages.
He’s also been incredibly kind to me. It was a very emotional year for me but he rode the waves with me. I lost a great friend in an accident this summer and Will was the only one who knew Dave who was around me at the time. Over the next few months, when I’d sporadically start to cry, he’d quietly get me kleenex and ask, ‘do you just miss Dave?’ Then he’d say how he understood because two of his fishes had died. So grownup but thankfully still a little kid at the same time. He knows when I’m sad and need some space. He knows when I need him to just make me laugh and distract me.
Will is maturing as well. It’s fascinating watching him learn more about the world and cultures and how things tick. This was the year that he asked where babies came from. He understood that the way he came to be was not quite traditional and he wanted to know all about that. I’m continually amazed how ‘I don’t have a dad’ comes out of his mouth in a confident, almost proud, way. I hope, if I don’t meet anyone, that he continues to be fine with our whole untraditional family.
He continues to be fascinated by movies and it’s been awesome sharing ones that are a little more grown up with him. He’ll watch YouTube videos about movies endlessly and I’ve taken to calling him Cliff Claven because it’s just an endless stream of stats from morning to night. The kid can talk.
He took up rock climbing this year, cowrote a book with his friend Maya (well he was the illustrator), continued on his lego building obsession, fell in love with manatees and has almost mastered the two wheeler. He took piano classes and was apparently amazing but he wasn’t too interested so we’ll shelve it for awhile.
We traveled to Cuba, Quebec, Niagara and played tourist in New York City. He was the king of the hop on/hop off bus and filled me in on every movie reference that had to do with the city. We sat at the fountain at Rockefeller Centre and built lego and drank beer and lemonade. It is one of those moments that is frozen in time for me, seared in my memory.
There are so many of these. Despite his sunscreen rage fests. Despite his unwillingness to pick up popsicle sticks and wrappers. Despite the never ending divots in my feet from random lego pieces. Well. This kid. He is incredible.
I often wonder what passes through your mind on Father’s Day. Do you think about the slew of families that you’ve helped in their quest to be parents? I sort of hope not. Maybe you’re a father yourself now! If you are, I hope you’ve been as fortunate as me.