My dear darling Tristan, today you are twelve years old!
Tristan, you are a curious, creative, thoughtful boy with a delightfuly dry and wry sense of humour. You are warm and affectionate, shy but loyal, and full of deep thoughts. You are always a wonderful companion and I enjoy spending time with you.
It seems you grow an inch every time I look at you lately, my son. You grow taller, your voice grows deeper, and the shadows of facial hair on your uppper lip are more than just peach fuzz now. It’s okay if I still think of you as my baby, though, right? Even though we may literally see eye to eye by the end of this year?
Your best friend continues to be Simon, whether you admit it or not. The two of you have an insular world of imagination woven from Minecraft and Pokemon and YouTube that comes replete with its own set of idioms and concepts impenetrable by your parents. It’s almost like a secret language of twins. And you continue to show great patience with Lucas, who adores you in ways to which I’m pretty sure you’re oblivious. You have a sweet circle of friends for whom you care deeply, and they clearly feel the same way about you. Especially one in particular.
This year, your favourite things seem to be Minecraft, meatballs, that silly cat, Minecraft videos on YouTube, any artistic endeavour, Pokemon, Chinese food, family movie nights, animals of all sizes, and your dad’s baking. You are still my adventurer and my explorer, the one most receptive to my proposals of a walk in the woods or a ride on our bikes. This year we discovered a love of skiing together, and it was a wonderful adventure to share with you.
Tristan, you continue to show an amazing talent for art. In addition to sketching and drawing, you have lately taken an interest in digital artwork and your PicCollage app on your iPod. You made your own birthday party invitations with it, and you’ve lately taken to creating online avatars not just for yourself but for your friends as well.
You see yourself as a non-conformist, but you strive to make others happy. Given the opportunity to choose between two types of cupcakes to bring to school to celebrate your birthday, you sent around a poll to make sure all your classmates and teachers had a chance to vote for their preference. I read just a few days ago an article called 18 Things Highly Creative People Do Differently and I saw you in so many of the points. Daydreaming, observing the world, taking time for solitude, seeking new experiences, viewing life as an opportunity for self-expression, losing track of time, seeing things differently – all the things that make you ocasionally challenging to parent or manage in school, in other words. It makes me look forward to see where you are going in life.
One thing in particular I’ve enjoyed this year is our evening walks with Bella. Although the long winter nights lately have been cold for walking, our chats have been a great way to get to know what’s going on in your life. You’ve shown an interest in astronomy and I’ve been happy to talk your ears off in sharing what I love about the stars and planets.
This has been your last year of primary school. Next year you will move on to the challenge of a middle school embedded in a high school, but for now you have enjoyed being among the kings of the school. You have very much enjoyed participating in your school’s morning “radio show” and dressing up in the school mascot costume – two of only a few of the rewards of being a sixth grader.
These letters get harder and harder to write as you get older. I’m no less proud of you, no less charmed by you, no less delighted by your company – but I feel like I can’t be as candid about my affection or your personality and interests as you grow older. Your stories are your own now, crafted more and more by your own motivations, passions and dreams. With each passing year, you become more in charge of writing the story of who you are and where you are going with your life, and I’m only along for the ride and the companionship – and maybe to take a photo or two along the way.
You may be bigger, my man-child, but you’ll always be my baby. Happy birthday, my sweet Tristan! We adore you!
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