April 11, 2009

Dear Bright,

Four years ago tonight we were in a hospital room in Lexington, Kentucky, starry eyed and scared, holding our new baby son. You made us parents. You turned our world upside-down. You stole our hearts forever.

Yesterday, on your 4th birthday, you were standing in a sunbeam in your underwear, and you said, "Look, I'm growing hair on my legs like Dad." I told you that's what happens when you turn four. I told you it must have happened overnight. You were so proud, you ran over to show Dad right away.

You are very smart. You can see people's emotions. You have a shepherd's heart. You like things to make sense. We are very proud of you in a crowd, how you handle yourself, how you stand up for yourself with class.

This fall you will start junior kindergarten. You are now sleeping on the top bunk. You close the door of the bathroom behind you for "private-see." You talk about being a husband and father. When you grow up, you want to play with your kids. Today at dinner you announced that if you have too many kids, you'll just put some of them to bed while you go to work. We said that was a great idea.

There is so much we love about you. We love the things you say, the clever way your mind works, the way you lovingly guide your little brother, the way you laugh, your sparkling brown eyes, your cute little thigh muscles, your content spirit, your tender heart, your strength, your wit, and so much more.

Happy Birthday, Bright Eugene. We love you so much!
Mom and Dad