Letters To My Sons | November

My soulful son,

Lately you don't go anywhere without your sketchbook! Hours spent filling its pages with elaborate drawings and stories, so many in fact that you're now working on your second book. Sometimes you want to use the iPad just to watch drawing instruction videos, and your concentration is such that I often forget you're only in first grade. The soulful, poetic view of the world that you have is indicative of your inner artiste. And it's not surprising that the day I took this portrait of you, you were holding your trusty camera and a curry leaf whose ombré colors captured your eye. 

I spent a little time with you in the gym one morning before school started. Early drop-off they call it. Anyways, it wasn't long before the girls in your class were swarming around you, plying you with questions in their best cutesy voice.

"Caaaaaash, do you still like sharks?!"

"Look Cash! I have a watch just like you - but miiiine is PINK!"

I merely observed how you seemed to graciously ignore them. Girls just aren't on your radar -- yet. You were more concerned with finding that book about insects you love and a quiet corner so we could read it together. When they called all the students upstairs, you told me I should exit from the other side of the gym - "It's less crowded Mommy" - and when I turned back before going down the stairs, I saw your hand waving high above the throng of kids. You even jumped a little so I could see your mouth form the words "Bye Mommy!".  Yet one more farewell from my growing boy -- the sweetness of it all causing me to tear up on my way out. 

I don't care how ushy gushy or corny this may all sound to you one day. But these letters Cash! For the past month, every day at school pickup, you'd give me a handmade envelope with a special message inside. One of my most treasured is "Dear Mom, You Shine Like A Star". Some days there'd be little drawings of my favorite things or the two of us dancing or a "thank you" for something I'd done recently, more often than not drawn in my favorite colors. And you'd always ask if I was keeping them in a special place, which I certainly was. I cannot tell you how much I cherish these and this isn't even all of them. I simply couldn't fit my whole stash in the picture frame!    

So it's no secret Cash that you're often unmoved about your role as big brother, but you recently proved that when push comes to shove, you most definitely come to Grey's rescue. One morning the two of you were playing on our bed and for whatever reason decided to crawl inside our duvet cover. You told me later that you guys were pretending you were back inside "Mommy's stomach". After playing this game for a bit, you started to get hot and wanted to come out but couldn't find the opening. Then, because Grey couldn't see the edge of the bed, he began falling off toward the floor where Daddy's weightlifting bar lies. You were holding onto him desperately as you called out my name for help, fearing you'd lose your grip any second. Once I lifted you guys safely back onto the bed, I let you continue to figure your way out. Sorry to say, but I wanted you guys to do this together - Hey, you got yourselves in there, now find your way out! Of course I stood by in case you needed me, slightly amused by these two pigs in a sack with flailing limbs trying to feel their way out. A few minutes later you eventually did, crawling out exasperated and winded, but tremendously relieved. 

Tough love? Perhaps. But it just goes to show you that you guys can work together in a panic. And you have a very strong grip when you need it Cash! You held onto your brother with all your strength so he wouldn't fall to the floor and I let you know I recognized this. Brothers In Arms.

I pray you continue to observe the world through the eyes of an artist and the soul of a poet, tackling unforeseen adversity with the strength of a skilled fighter. And again, thank you for my letters son. Just like you, they are my everything.

I love you.

Always and forever, Mom

Cash, Grey and of course a cameo by Zuma | HARLEM