Today, while you were in the bathtub creating your many stories and activities, I had a wish bubble up in me. That there could be a kind of camera or video camera that could take images/movies of our lives that you could then, later, walk into and relive in that moment. To turn around in it, really feel all that was there, just as it was for you in that real moment. That’s what virtual reality is just becoming now, and I’m guessing when you get to be my age you will have something like this or will have invented it yourself. To me, it’s only possible as magic and a wistful hope.
I wish I had that camera today because I just had these amazing three hours with you. Dad had to be out of the house so it was just you and me. In your bath, you took a toothbrush that has a suction cup on the bottom (to keep it from tipping over) and created: a brush that cleaned cars along the sides like you see in the car wash; a device to pick up your big toy jeep car, like the magnets on top of the vehicles at car compactor sites; and then you stuck it on the front, angled windshield and declared it was a “unicorn car”. I wish you could see now the delight you put into me and that I saw in you in these moments. We said a lot of wows and made a LOT of giggles. How can you be so creative in such an abstract way and be so young? You’ve always been like this, though. Such a miracle, you are.
After bath time, we played in your bedroom. We took apart a foldaway bed. Earlier in the day, you had discovered that when we took the mattress off, the part of the bed under it looked a lot like a trampoline. So you made it into one. You jumped from it to the bed. Leapt off the bed onto it. Created an obstacle course for yourself where you climbed on the trampoline, up to the top of your (low) clothes dresser, onto the bed, bounced off the bed back onto the trampoline and repeated it. We discovered that you could also turn the trampoline into a drum set if you hit it with your feet. We did a lot of drumming.
We made up a song about being loud. Because we weren’t going to disturb anyone by being loud. And you made me sing it twice. We had a chorus where we made up words to sing super loudly. You liked the “MEOOOWWWWW!” one I did best. You do love kitties.
It’s fall so the sun is setting earlier each day. By this time it was dark out and the light from your lamp was shining on the wall next to your bed. We both were laying across the bed sideways, with our feet hanging off one side and our heads next to the wall right by your bed. You began lifting your feet and hands up and discovered they cast a perfect set of shadows on the wall. You waved them back and forth and started giggling because we both noticed at the same time that it kind of looked liked your feet were either eating or attacking your hands when you waved them in the same direction, past each other. First we pretended your leg shadows were eating your hand shadows. Then you made the hand shadows fight back! Then the feet shadows kept trying to eat the hand shadows, but the hands had turned into ghosts! So the legs were foiled again and again. Your giggles made my heart grow bigger. We laughed a lot.
After a while, it was dinner time. Our play had to end. But I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to live, like that camera that doesn’t exist yet, in these moments of today with you for a long, long time.
So these words are my attempt to fix the memory to your mind like it is in mind. A beautiful three hours of smiles, laughing, listening, creating, moving, and just being with each other. I can only write in one dimension, but to me the vivid beauty of those hours are in my heart now. I hope you feel that love in these simple words. Because I love you so much, Sam. Thank you for this beautiful day.
letters to sam 